Time For Plan B
by chromeknickers
Summary: Life doesn't always go according to plan, so sometimes you need contingencies. But what if your backup plan fails? Mix in a reverse-Oedipus complex, something about a pig, and set it all in the year 1975, and you are bound to have some serious issues.
1. Not Exactly Foolproof

**Chapter 1 – Not Exactly Foolproof**

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

The harsh blaring from the alarm sounded in her ears like drill—a persistent, beeping drill. She reached out with her hand and began to smack at the alarm, hitting it with her palm, as her face remained buried in the soft feather-down pillow. Apparently she wasn't striking the right button for the stupid machine was still blasting away, antagonising her like a relentless harpy.

She muttered a few colourful expletives into the pillow and absently felt around her bed, searching for her wand. Her fingertips felt wood and she grasped the wand tightly in her hand. Flipping over onto her back, she aimed her wand at what she hoped was the alarm clock.

"Silencio!"

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Merlin's left nut!" she cursed groggily and turned over onto her side.

Eyes closed, she reached around, picked up the damnable beeping object, pulled its cord out of the socket, and pitched it across the room.

Silence.

Ginny Weasley let out a relieved sigh and smiled lazily to herself as she rolled over onto her stomach. She wrapped both arms around the fluffy pillow and held it close, snuggling her face into the clean linen.

She had to admit that she really hated Muggle appliances. She didn't see how Hermione could tolerate a machine that blasted away in your ear with incessant squawking, at least one that couldn't easily be silenced with a wand. It was unnatural. Sure, she had most likely botched the spell with her mumbling, and she probably didn't even direct her wand at the alarm itself, but still—she stood by her original position: Muggle appliances were frustrating.

After an hour of blissful, uninterrupted sleep, Ginny finally rose from bed with a yawn and stretched her stiff limbs. She ambled her way out the door, smacking her lips distastefully as she went. Her teeth were in a desperate need of cleaning.

Letting out another loud yawn, Ginny rubbed at her tired eyes with the edge of her palms and teetered down the unfamiliar hallway in search of a bathroom. Fortunately, she located one but had to go back to her room to retrieve her toothbrush. After a good scrub of her teeth and attending to other toiletries, Ginny made her way into the kitchen to be greeted by an already dressed and smiling Hermione. The redhead looked down at her own blue pyjamas covered in small, yellow ducks and frowned.

"Hey, Ginny. Did you have a good sleep?" Hermione asked cheerily, pulling out the chair beside her and patting the seat with a smile.

Ugh, a morning person.

Ginny sleepily nodded her head and sat down. A small, goofy grin began to spread across her face when she saw that her friend had made her Scottish pancakes covered in butter and syrup. Beside the plate stacked with heavenly pastries were a large glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of hot tea. Hermione must have used a Heating Charm to keep Ginny's tea and pancakes warm. The redhead's lopsided grin morphed into a beaming smile.

"I love you, Hermione," she cooed affectionately before digging in.

Hermione Granger truly was a dear friend. She had invited Ginny to stay with her at her family's house in London for the last few weeks of August. The summer after the Hogwarts battle was one of the hottest on record. For many it was a time of celebration: Harry had won; he had defeated Voldemort. Most of the Death Eaters had been arrested, some even willingly surrendered, and others had fled into the night. It was the Order's victory over evil. Yes, it was a time for celebration, but it was also a time of mourning—to pick up the pieces of lives torn and displaced by the war.

Ginny had appreciated the late August invite from Hermione, as she needed to get out of the Burrow. The family had taken Fred's death hard, especially George. While she made herself available to her older brother and her mother for support, Ginny felt the desperate need to get out and relax a bit before she went back to school. It was not that she was callous or unaffected by her brother's death; in fact, she was crushed and devastated by it. Ginny, however, dealt with her sorrow and pain differently than the rest of her family—internally. What she needed now was to lose herself in something, whether it be in friends, sports, or school.

Ginny was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts, which was currently being reopened by the Ministry under the capable tutelage of Professor (now Headmistress) McGonagall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would also be attending, repeating their seventh year since they didn't attend school the year before. In fact, all former seventh-years were allowed to return since not much had been taught the previous year, nor were N.E.W.T.s taken.

"My parents are gone for the weekend," Hermione sang, shaking Ginny from her reverie. "I thought you might like a change of pace from going to museums and plays. Did you want to stay in and watch movies?"

"Moo-vees?" Ginny asked with a mouthful of pancakes. She looked up at the brunette with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Yes, they are like moving pictures, but they tell a story," Hermione explained.

Ginny nodded her head and swallowed. "Neat. Sure, I'd like to see moo-vees."

Hermione smiled at her in a way that made the redhead frown. It was one of those 'inside joke' kind of looks, except Ginny wasn't on the inside; she was on the outside. After the redhead hurriedly scarfed down her breakfast, both girls took their tea into the entertainment room and Hermione began to rummage through her collection of movies.

"This one's called _Back to the Future_," she said, holding up some square-looking object.

Ginny frowned. "That makes no sense."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, I know. That's Hollywood for you."

Ginny lowered her tea from her lips and tilted her head to the side. "I don't understand. Is this moo-vee about wands?"

"Wands? What?" Hermione asked, uncharacteristically nonplussed. "Oh, holly _wood_!" A light seemed to go off inside the brunette's head, and she shook her head. "No, Ginny, this movie isn't about wands. It's about—well, let's just watch, shall we?"

Hermione smiled and popped the movie into an odd-looking device and turned on something called a 'tee-vee'. The picture began to flicker and text appeared on the screen, and then a lion roared, which slightly disturbed Ginny. Finally, the picture opened with some weird contraptions, and, after a while, a boy showed up on screen playing some weird musical instrument. After an hour and a half, Ginny was on the edge of her seat. Her mouth was hanging open in wonderment and her eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets.

"That was amazing!" she cried as the credits rolled on the screen.

"I'm glad you liked it," Hermione said, grinning at the younger girl.

"Liked it? I loved it!"

Ginny then got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Hermione joined her, taking a seat on one of the stools on the other side of the island counter. She reached down into the cupboard below and took out a packet of crisps. She opened them and then poured them into a bowl in front of her.

"So how do you think Harry and Ron are doing at Grimmauld Place?" Hermione asked.

Ginny took a sip of her water. "Destroying it?" she queried back a little too seriously, making Hermione snort aloud.

Harry had stayed at the Burrow until mid-July and then finally moved into Sirius's old home. She missed him, obviously, but he came back to visit her on her birthday. It was then that he invited Ron to stay with him for the rest of the month. Ginny would have loved to have gone too, but her parents would not have approved of her sleeping, without chaperone, at her boyfriend's house for three weeks. She had just been reunited with Harry and yet she barely saw him the entire summer. It was just her luck. At least she would see plenty of him at school starting next week.

"Ron just needed to get out of the Burrow, like me."

Hermione slowly nodded. "Ginny," she began awkwardly, "I never got to say at the funeral how sorry I was—_am_—about Fred." She looked up at Ginny with sympathetic eyes.

"It's hit George the hardest," Ginny said, her voice faltering. "He really hasn't been the same ..." She paused and shook her head, determined not to dwell on the heartache. "Anyway, I don't really want to talk about that right now. Tell me, what classes are you taking this year?"

Hermione seemed startled by the Ginny's sudden change in mood and topic, but she did not let it distract her from answering the younger girl's question. She listed a number of subjects, all alphabetically, and chatted animatedly about what she hoped to achieve with her N.E.W.T.s.

Ginny smiled while Hermione talked. She could always trust the older witch to somehow detract her from her own misery.

"How can you be taking Runes _and_ Divination?" Ginny asked, suddenly cluing in to what classes Hermione had listed. "They're both offered at the same time. I know because I had to settle for Runes." She furrowed her brow. "Better yet, why are you taking Divination at all? Don't you hate Professor Trelawney?"

Hermione grinned and rubbed her hands together in glee, causing Ginny to look askance at the brunette.

"Firenze is teaching Runes," Hermione answered joyously. "Supposedly they've got a new professor for Divination this term as Trelawney is on sabbatical."

"But how can you take two classes at once?" Ginny asked, still confused.

"A Time-Turner," Hermione answered simply.

"Wow, you have one of those?" Ginny was in awe. She had heard about those from Percy. "I thought we destroyed the Ministry's supply when we sneaked into the Department of Mysteries?" (Percy had also informed her of this, although he wasn't as impressed as she had been at the time).

"We did," Hermione confirmed. "But the Ministry was able to locate a few in certain Death Eaters' homes, and Professor McGonagall acquired one for me, special." She beamed with pride.

Ginny let out a small laugh and leaned over to nip a crisp from Hermione's bowl, biting into it with a cheeky grin on her oval-shaped face. Hermione grabbed the bowl and the rest of the packet and headed back into the living room with Ginny following closely behind.

"So, did you want to watch the sequel to _Back to the Future_?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder at the redhead. "I think I have it here—" she bent down and picked up another case from the pile on the floor "—yup, I do."

Ginny set down her glass and then jumped on the sofa, making herself comfortable. "There's a sequel?"

"Two, actually," Hermione stated, looking over at the redhead for the green light to put in the video cassette.

Ginny nodded and folded her legs, one over the other. "Okay, I'm up for it."

Hermione giggled, popped the tape inside, and walked back over to the couch to take a seat beside the anxious redhead. As the movie began to play, Ginny reached across the seat and scooped up a handful of crisps.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"What's a 'sequel'?"

**-x-**

The gentle sounds and motion of the train lulled Ginny into a languid state—borderline sleep. She couldn't help but let her mind wander to images of the past as well as the present. She and Hermione had met up with Ron and Harry at the train station. Her brother and the older girl had openly snogged on the platform, whereas Harry had just leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Ginny didn't mind. She really wasn't in the mood to start making out with him in public. She still had a lot of things on her mind, mainly the death of Fred.

Ginny had always been exceptionally close with the twins. While Charlie was her favourite brother because he doted on her, she rarely saw him. Bill, on the other hand, was too old, and Percy was too ... 'Percy', and Ron was too close in age. It was true that she and Ronald used to be best mates, but then he went off to Hogwarts and made two new best friends, and she was left alone. This was when she started to get close with Fred and George.

The twins were like the middle child of the family, always looked over so they had to do 'things' in order to be noticed. When Ginny was finally of age to attend Hogwarts, she no longer saw their antics as annoying but fun. They looked after her at school, making sure that no one teased her or made her cry. Many times they had wreaked havoc with Malfoy's hair when the git had dared to tease her for being a Weasley. They were also the ones who taught her the Bat-Bogey Hex.

Now, more than ever, she missed those antics as the two had always managed to bring laughter and happiness into almost any situation, no matter how dire. Without Fred, George was the shell of the boy he once was. He was withdrawn and brooding. He had lost his humour, his spark that made him George; he had lost a part of himself. So, in essence, Ginny had two brothers taken from her at the Battle of Hogwarts. While so much had been gained by Voldemort's defeat, much had also been lost. If only she could go back in time and save Fred from being killed. If only there were a way to alter the past.

"I hear Headmistress McGonagall is on the train to ensure the safety of the students," Hermione stated, shaking Ginny from her musings.

"I guess she doesn't want to have a term like Snape did," Ron commented with a snort as he popped a chocolate frog into his mouth and began to chew.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione cried in an admonishing tone, glancing sideways at Harry.

"Oh—" Ron swallowed hard and turned to look sheepishly at his best mate "—sorry, Harry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Harry replied softly, but there was a hint of sadness in his green eyes.

Ginny let out a sigh and rose from her seat. She walked over to the compartment door and slid it open.

"Gin, where are you going?" Ron asked with concern.

"For a walk," she replied quietly. "I need to clear my head."

Ginny made her way out into the open aisles and began a leisurely stroll, passing by the many closed compartments. Not every seat on the train was secluded. Most people sat out in the open, which made it rather loud but loads more fun. She used to sit out here, laughing and joking with her housemates. It wasn't until she started dating Harry (and was allowed into the inner circle) that she had begun to take her place in the private compartment. It was okay, she guessed, but she did miss being outside in the aisles where all the action took place. Ginny wasn't looking for action this time. She just wanted to be alone—to sit in silence and think to herself.

Heading towards the back of the train, Ginny hoped that there'd be more empty seats or even a compartment near the caboose. The noise began to lessen to a dull roar as she made her way back. Eventually, she found an empty section and lowered her head, heading over to take a seat.

"If it isn't The Girl Who Dates Potter," a familiar voice stated with unrestrained bitterness.

Ginny looked up to see a tall, pale blond blocking her path. Where had he been hiding? She had only looked down for a second.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" she ordered before pushing past him. "I haven't the patience to deal with your shite right now."

She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. Unfortunately, she had made her way to the end of the line. Now she would have to actually face the git. And why exactly did this boy have to accost her? Boy? Well, she supposed that he wasn't much of a boy anymore. He had apparently grown quite taller this past summer and filled out quite nicely, she had to begrudgingly admit. He looked a little rough around the edges, a little older. But he was still a useless tosspot, in her opinion, no matter how much broader or fitter he got.

The tosspot in question then turned to face her and made a formal bow, elegantly extending his hand. This action would have looked natural on the regal and haughty-looking blond if the formality had not been directed at her.

"Well, if it's not convenient for Her Majesty, the She-Weasel, then by all means I shall take my leave." He managed to bow even lower but then looked up at her with an ugly sneer plastered on what would have otherwise been a somewhat handsome face.

"Screw you, Ferret-face!" she spat, hating how much of a prat he was.

He brought himself up to full height and looked down his small, pointed nose at her. "You wish, Weaselette."

"Wanker!" she yelled, unable to halt her rising temper, which seemed to always boil over in the presence of the pale Slytherin.

"Cow!" he roared back. He, too, was less in control than what he normally appeared to be.

"Enough!" a loud voice commanded, and the two students stood up straight. It was Professor McGonagall. "Break this up immediately." She turned to look at Draco. "Mister Malfoy, you should know better." She then directed her attention to Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I expect more from you."

Both lowered their heads and muttered apologies as the older woman cleared her throat and glanced down at them disapprovingly.

"The term hasn't even started yet, and I'm close to deducting house points!"

Just then loud shouts could be heard coming from the other end of the train, and Professor McGonagall glanced down at the pair with a scowl on her face before turning around and disappearing back into the throng of students.

Draco pivoted on his foot and glared down at Ginny, boring a hole through her head with his gaze.

"I've got my eye on you, Weasley," he said warningly and pointed a long finger at her before turning back down the aisle towards his own compartment.

"Yeah, well I've got _both_ of mine on you, you manky pillock!" she yelled at his back in vain.

Ginny saw Draco raise his index and middle finger, offering her a two-finger salute as he kept walking straight ahead, not once looking back. She cursed under her breath and frowned. This was going to be a long first day.

**-x-**

As luck would have it, Hermione was bunked with Ginny, as one of the younger Gryffindor's old housemates would not be returning. They were never told why, but Ginny could only guess: Hannah Jenkins was Muggle-born.

All the other girls had already unpacked and headed down to the Great Hall for the Sorting. Ginny was still flitting about so she waved Hermione to go on without her, telling the older girl that she would be down shortly. When Hermione left, Ginny threw her luggage chest onto the floor and the rusted, old lock busted open, spilling all of her clothes out onto the carpet.

"Poppycock!" she swore aloud and fell to her knees as she hastily began to grab her clothes, and other sundries, and toss them back into her old trunk.

She finished throwing the last pair of socks inside when something silver-coloured underneath Hermione's bed caught her eye, twinkling in the dusk-light that filtered in through the large bay windows. Ginny frowned and, in a rather unladylike manner, began to crawl over on her hands and knees towards Hermione's bed. She shoved an arm underneath the lower frame and reached for the shiny object. The tips of her fingers touched cold metal, and she closed her fist around it and pulled it out.

Ginny looked down at her hand in wonder. It was a small white-gold pocket watch with a long chain; however, it didn't appear to tell the time. It had several dials on it and what looked like numbers, but it seemed as though these numbers could only be made visible through a spell of some kind.

_This must be the Time-Turner_, Ginny thought to herself as she traced a finger along the bottom of the device.

She held the 'pocket watch' tightly in her hand and then glanced around the room, seeing if anyone was there. Ginny then pocketed the device and grabbed her wand and robes, running out of the common room and exiting the Gryffindor Tower. She was not heading to the Great Hall for the Sorting; she was making her way outside. Everyone was inside the large room, including Filch, so she could easily sneak out onto the grounds. She made her way towards the lake and took the Time-Turner out of her pocket and stared at it. She then slipped the chain over her head and felt the weight of it rest on her chest.

Ginny knew that she shouldn't be doing this. It was Hermione's to use, not hers. If she were caught using it, she would surely get into a heap of trouble. In her heart though, she felt that she had to do this. It was like that moo-vee she watched at Hermione's—Marty went back in time and managed to make his life and his parents' lives better. She wasn't looking for wealth or fame or accolades of any kind. She just wanted to go back to the battle at Hogwarts and stop her brother from being killed. That wouldn't hurt anyone. It wouldn't change the future for the worse, would it? No, it wouldn't. It would only change for the better. She was going to do this.

Ginny fumbled with the smaller dial, unsure of what spell to perform or how to work the bloody thing. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she began to wish that the device had come with an instruction manual.

"What have you got there, Weaselette?" a cold voice drawled behind her, and she cringed. "Pilfered some hapless bloke's pocket watch?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," she muttered under her breath, as she tried to hide the Time-Turner down the front of her Oxford blouse.

Why was he following her? Malfoy, of all people!

"That's right. Talk dirty to me, Weasley," he purred in her ear as he came up behind her, making her shudder. "It won't sway my opinion that you're an ugly hag."

Ginny ground her teeth and tried desperately not to whip out her wand and hex the smarmy bastard into the lake. Instead, she took off down the beach. Draco, however, didn't seem intent on being ignored and quickly followed at her heels.

He reached over her shoulder to grab at the large gold chain around her neck. "So whom'd you lift this off?"

Ginny immediately turned around and slapped his wrist, causing him to draw back his well-manicured hand and earning herself a rather petulant and scathing look from the blond-haired Slytherin. Unfortunately, however, this physical reprimand only seemed to encourage him. He reached forward, guardedly this time, and snaked his fingers around the chain.

"Malfoy, give it back!" Ginny growled, trying to tug the Time-Turner out of his grasp. He would not relent.

"You've stolen this from someone, Weasley," he stated with authority. "The likes of you could never afford something like this. It looks slightly less than worthless."

She narrowed eyes and pulled the chain back with more force than she had intended. "You arrogant git!"

"Just give it to me, Weasley, and I'll convince the Headmistress to go easy on you," he said unconvincingly, yanking the Time-Turner from her neck.

The chain then snapped in two with Draco holding one half while Ginny held the other.

"Malfoy, don't—"

She tried to warn him, but it was too late. The witless wonder had already reached out to grab the larger dial, inadvertently turning it.

"What the—?"

Both stared dumbfounded at the device as it began to emit a weird sort of humming noise. Draco looked up at Ginny with wide, accusing eyes, and she could only stare at him in open incredulity. The humming sound then grew louder until it was almost deafening, and a feeling of vertigo seized them both. The lake and surrounding grounds began to whirl past them in swirling colours.

"Mother-fu—"

The humming noise ended, and the spot by the lake where two figures had stood arguing was now void of its former human occupants. Draco and Ginny were gone.

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** This is my first Time-Turner fic, so I hope you like it. It is mainly a humour/action piece with a little bit of romance. Also, many thanks to Kim (Boogum), who beta'd this story for me. You are the best-est! ^_^

**Time-Turner** – the Time-Turner is a small silver hourglass worn on a chain around the neck. It's a very powerful and dangerous magical item, which literally turns back time for the user—one hour per inversion of the glass. The Ministry of Magic carefully controls Time-Turners, and the Time-Turner in _this_ story is one that the disorganised Ministry gave to the school to give to Hermione by accident. It is also an experimental one that was mislabelled, which will be explained later. This particular Time-Turner can go back by years, and is not yet tracked by the Ministry.


	2. Limited Options Of Which None Are Good

**Chapter 2 – Limited Options Of Which None Are Good**

Ginny tried her best to steady herself by reaching and grasping onto Draco's shoulders. The trip back in time was rockier than she had anticipated. Hermione never told her that such a nauseating feeling of vertigo accompanied time travelling but, then again, Ginny never really did ask. She supposed that one got used to using a Time-Turner.

Unimpressed, Draco shrugged off her hands and took a shaky step forward, dropping the chain of the travelling device. He stopped and brought his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, looking as though he was trying to stave off a massive migraine.

"Pray tell, what just happened?"

Ginny, who was still holding on to the other end of the dangling chain, pocketed the Time-Turner and shook her head. "I think we went back in time."

She turned around and took in their surroundings. They were still at the lake, and it was still light out. The sun had yet to set. Maybe they had only gone back a few hours.

"Went back in—that's rich, Weasley," Draco countered with a snort. He lowered his hands to his side and lifted his head to issue her his most scathing glare. "What did you do?"

"_Me_?" Ginny placed her hands on her hips, mastering the pose of indignation. "I didn't do anything. You're the one who broke the chain and activated the Time-Turner!"

Draco's left eyebrow lowered while his right seemed to disappear into his hairline. "Time-Turner? You have got to be kidding me." He cocked his head to the side. "Where did you steal one of those?"

Ginny bristled at his insinuation and crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. He was such a diplomat. Yes, so maybe she had 'borrowed' the Time-Turner, but not like some thief-in-the-night or in such an immoral manner as he was suggesting. It was all legitimate—sort of.

"Well, no matter," Draco sighed, glancing up at the school while he adjusted his tie. "We probably only went back a few hours."

Ginny nodded in reluctant agreement as she watched him step past her, heading towards the school in a determined fashion. She dropped her arms to her sides and took off after him, having to run to keep up with his long, fast strides.

"What are you doing?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Going back inside," she answered sharply, keeping in step with the pale blond.

"Well, don't follow me!" Draco hissed, determined to walk even faster now.

"How else am I supposed to get into the school?" Ginny asked, exasperated that Malfoy always had to act like an arrogant ponce.

"I don't care how you do it, Weasley," he answered with disdain. "Just don't walk beside me or behind me or within a hundred feet of me."

Wow, he left her with oh-so-many options.

"Sod off, Malfoy!"

"Such manners," he commented dryly, lowering his eyes in a haughty manner.

"You're one to talk," she rejoined with an equally supercilious expression on her face, and he rolled his eyes at her predictability.

The two had inadvertently been making their way towards the Quidditch field near the changing rooms. Ginny suddenly stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a familiar-looking blond striding with confidence towards the small building, coming from the direction of the field. He was tall with long silver-blond hair, of average build but with broad shoulders, obviously fit. He was in full Quidditch gear with a broom in his hand, yet there appeared to be no one else on the pitch.

"Who is—" Ginny pointed a finger at the handsome stranger "—that guy looks like you!" she stated in disbelief, and Draco turned his head to see. "But it can't be you. He's taller, and his hair is longer, and he's much broader than you, and he—"

"Yes, Weasley," he cut in dryly. "I'll thank you to stop negatively comparing him to some strange bloke."

"Do you have any relatives attending Hogwarts this term?"

"No" Draco slowly shook his head and pursed his lips.

They both started to walk towards the changing rooms, watching the tall blond who carried himself with poise and unrestrained confidence. One could almost call it a swagger. Draco's eyes narrowed and he took in the other blond's physique. The boy in question then turned, looking back towards the school, exposing his profile. Draco's jaw dropped open.

"That's my—"

"Malfoy, is that your—"

"Father."

They both turned to look at each other, mouths open. That couldn't be Lucius Malfoy. He looked eighteen, at the most. There was no way they could have travelled that far back in time to when Draco's father was a teenager. Time-Turners didn't go back in years—did they?

Draco's doppelgänger then disappeared inside the Slytherin boys' changing room, and the two curious teenagers took off in a sprint after him. Both were intent on finding out who this Draco look-a-like was.

"Do you know how to perform a Disillusionment Charm?" Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper as they made their way to the opening of the boys' locker room.

Ginny shook her head. She was supposed to have learnt how to do that in her sixth year, but there wasn't exactly a lot of teaching going on at the time.

Draco scowled and then rolled his eyes, knowing that he would have to instruct her. Luckily, Ginny was a quick student and picked up the charm on her first try. After they both Disillusioned themselves, Draco put his index finger to his lips, indicating that she be quiet as they sneaked into the room.

Several musky and unpleasant odours assailed Ginny's nostrils, and she tried hard not to cover her mouth and gag. She crept along the walls closely behind Draco, holding onto the fabric of his robes. He reached his hand behind his back and slapped at hers—his subtle way of telling her to let go. They had silently made their way to an empty stall several metres away from the unsuspecting blond, who was the only one in the room.

Ginny wondered why the stranger was in full uniform if no one else was playing. She also couldn't help but gaze at the tall boy, who had set his broom down to open his locker. Up close he was even more attractive. He had pale grey eyes, like Draco's, but his face altogether was slightly different; his jaw was squarer, for one. He was obviously bigger than Draco too, though not overtly muscular. His chest and shoulders appeared very broad, especially when accentuated with the slender cut of his waist. His thighs and calves were long and lean, rather uncommon for a man of his size, yet they suited him. He was the definition of a teenage heartthrob. Too bad Draco didn't look this fine.

"Is this your father?" Ginny whispered.

Draco nodded, grimacing. "Yes, from what I have seen in pictures, this is him."

Ginny bit down on her bottom lip, watching the taller blond begin to unbuckle his belt with one hand while pushing his long, fine white-blond hair out of his face with the other.

"Merlin, your dad is quite the yummy bloke," she purred in Draco's ear.

"Hey!" Draco snapped his fingers in front of the redhead's face. "Remember that same _bloke_ gave you a cursed diary!"

"Oh, right." Ginny frowned. Right, delicious here—Lucius, that is—was the git who had allowed Voldemort to possess her. She couldn't let his youthful good looks dissuade her.

Just then, the epitome of yum crossed his arms at the waist and began to lift his Quidditch jersey up over his shoulders, discarding it on the bench across from his locker. His naked torso was hairless and smooth, not a trace of sweat on his sculpted abdomen and chiselled pectorals (how that did not sound gay in her mind, she did not know). By Merlin, this man was gorgeous.

Ginny's mouth suddenly watered. _This_ was Draco Malfoy's father?

"Son of Hades!" she exclaimed in awe, wiping the drool from her chin. "Tell me, Malfoy, do you look that good topless?" She then turned her head to look him up and down, unabashedly appraising his form.

Draco scowled and grabbed Ginny by her arm, quietly dragging her out of the changing room. He had seen enough.

"Stop looking at my father like that!" he growled.

After a mighty struggled, Ginny managed to free herself from Draco's tenacious grip, and they both sneaked out of the room undetected. Removing the Disillusionment Charm, both began to walk back towards the school in a daze, trying to register what had just happened.

"So," Ginny began slowly, "we went back in time to when your father was what—seventeen, eighteen?"

Draco, who had begun to sway on his feet, looked as though he was about to vomit. "Yeah, I guess so," he answered weakly.

Ginny tried to do the maths but couldn't, for the life of her, figure out when Draco's father was born.

"I think we're in the 'Seventies," Draco stated, as though reading her mind.

Ginny frowned. They had gone back in time almost twenty years? Impossible. This had to be a mistake.

Suddenly, Ginny noticed that they had absently wandered into the school. Both she and Draco stopped and stood back, watching the throng of incoming students take to their respective dormitories with luggage in hand. Apparently, it was the first day of school for whatever time period they were in. This, of course, explained why Draco's father had been alone on the field. He must have arrived at school early and was testing his abilities. Either he was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team or extremely dedicated.

"I don't recognise you two," a familiar, authoritative voice spoke up, diverting Ginny's train of thought.

Both Draco and Ginny looked up to see a slightly younger-looking Professor McGonagall. The sour expression of disdain on her face, however, was still the same.

"We—uh—" Ginny fumbled with a response and turned to Draco for support.

The grey-eyed blond merely stood still with his mouth closed—so much for the cunning of Slytherin.

The Transfiguration professor narrowed her eyes on the two students and curled a long, bony index finger. "You two will come with me."

It was the first day of school some twenty years in the past, and they were still finding their way into trouble.

**-x-**

Professor McGonagall escorted Draco and Ginny all the way to Dumbledore's office with neither party saying a word. Draco would occasionally glance over at Ginny, shooting daggers at her with his eyes, while she tried her best not to pull out her wand and perform her patented Bat-Bogey Hex on him right there.

As they approached Dumbledore's office, the somewhat younger McGonagall spoke a password. A door opened, revealing a passageway that led to a set of winding stairs. They began to ascend the stairs with trepidation, not quite sure what lay in store for them.

The Gryffindor Head of House rapped her aged knuckles on the door, and a familiar, sagely voice commanded them to enter. They hesitantly stepped inside the room. Dumbledore looked up from his desk with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He looked exactly as how Ginny remembered him, and she could not help but smile at the former headmaster. Draco, on the other hand, looked down at his feet and swallowed hard, determined not to look the old wizard in the eyes.

"And who have you brought me today, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, peering over the rims of his small half-moon spectacles.

"I found these two wandering the halls," Professor McGonagall replied dryly, indicating to the two students in front of her with a wave of her hand. "I have never seen them before, and their robes look a little odd."

Dumbledore's lips pursed into a slight frown. "Yes, thank you, Minerva. I shall have a talk with these two and inquire into the matter."

The Transfiguration professor briskly nodded and turned on her heel, swiftly exiting the office to leave the matter in the capable hands of the headmaster. Dumbledore pointed to two seats in front of his desk, but neither Ginny nor Draco moved from their original spots just inside the door. The white-haired wizard merely smiled at their reluctance to sit and decided to stand up to greet them instead.

"You are both students here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Ginny replied immediately, if not somewhat nervously.

The wizened wizard then directed his attention to Draco, who had failed to answer. The blond's eyes remained fixed on his shoes, but then he finally managed to mutter a 'yes' in concurrence.

"Why is it that I have never seen either of you before?"

"Uh—" Ginny fumbled for an explanation, but Draco cut her off.

"It's a rather large school," he stated in a somewhat condescending tone, yet he still failed to meet the older wizard's eyes.

"Very true," the headmaster agreed. "But I am expected to know all of my students. Tell me, what year are you both in?"

"Seventh," Ginny replied quickly.

"I see," Dumbledore said slowly, seeming to note the redhead's anxiety. "How is it that your robes and uniforms are different?"

Draco and Ginny briefly exchanged glances. By the look on Draco's face, one would assume that if the blond were to attempt to send a telepathic message to the redhead right now, he would tell her to keep her gob shut.

"Why are you being so reticent?" Both students fixed their gazes once more at the floor. "You are not actual students of Hogwarts, then?" Dumbledore's voice had now taken on deadly sort of edge.

Ginny looked up, shocked. "No, we are, it's just that—"

"Weasley!" Draco cut her off with a hiss.

"_Weasley_?" Dumbledore tugged at his long white beard with his hand, contemplative. "I had an Arthur Weasley graduate a few years ago. Are you of any relation?"

Ginny swallowed nervously and nodded.

Dumbledore raised a bushy white eyebrow and smiled. "That's very interesting considering Arthur came from a family of all boys."

Draco, who had his arms crossed in front of his torso, lowered them and clenched his hands into fists. He then turned his head to throw a nasty glare in Ginny's direction.

"Actually, I'm his cousin," she lied awkwardly.

Dumbledore's smile widened. "As far as I know there hasn't been a Weasley girl for a score of years."

"Oh," was all that Ginny could reply with. Why had she forgot this?

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering several colourful expletives under his breath.

"And your name, young man?" Dumbledore asked, turning his attention to Draco. "You do look rather familiar."

Draco looked down at the ground and refused to answer. Ginny glanced over nervously at the blond and shifted on her feet.

"If neither of you want to tell me your names, then I will have to assume that you are not students and I will have to notify the Ministry—"

"No, wait!" Ginny cried, waving her hands in front of face as she took a step towards the headmaster.

"Weasley!" Draco hissed again, speaking her name like a curse. There was an unmistakeable threat in his tone.

She turned to give him an equally scathing look. "No, we have to tell him, Malfoy."

"_Malfoy_?" Dumbledore repeated, and his eyes brightened in a knowing way. He turned to look at the redhead and nodded. "Yes, my dear, I think you best tell me what is going on."

She briefly glanced over at Draco, and he violently shook his head. She turned to look back at the headmaster and took in a deep breath.

"Professor, my name is Ginevra Weasley, and this—" she motioned with her hand to the grey-eyed blond standing beside her "—is Draco Malfoy."

Draco lifted his head towards the ceiling and closed his eyes as if in prayer, letting several more loud profanities escape past his lips.

Ginny ignored him and continued. "We're from the future, from the year 1998."

"Oh, my!" Dumbledore exclaimed, seeming genuinely shocked.

He took a seat on the chair behind his desk, and Ginny reached into her robes' pocket, pulling out the Time-Turner. She hesitantly stepped forward and held out the device to the headmaster. He gently took it from her hands and examined it with a concentrated frown.

"If you could just tell us the right spell to activate the dial, then we could set it to return home to our time," Ginny suggested somewhat pleadingly, and Dumbledore looked up at her with a small smile on his face.

"I'm afraid that this is the first time I have ever encountered a device like this before," he stated, and both Draco's and Ginny's mouths dropped open.

"You've never seen a Time-Turner before?" Draco asked with open incredulity and contempt.

"Oh, yes, I have," the headmaster answered lightly, ignoring Draco's slight. "But this is not an ordinary Time-Turner."

"It isn't?" both Draco and Ginny asked simultaneously.

The older wizard shook his head. "No, Time-Turners do not generally take you this far into the past." He sighed and carefully set the device on his desk. "I cannot allow you to fiddle with the dials and throw yourself even further back in time. I am not sure if this Time-Turner can even take you into the future. I must research this and find a way to safely get you back to your own time."

Draco and Ginny turned their heads to look at one another. They prayed to Merlin that the device could take them back to the future. There was no way they could live out their lives here in the past.

"How long will that take?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Dumbledore replied truthfully. "It could be weeks or it could be months."

"Months!" Draco exclaimed in disgust.

The headmaster smiled. "Have no fear. I will personally look into this matter."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And what do we do in the meantime?"

"Well, this may take a while so you might as well join our school regimen," he answered with a smile, which quickly faded to a serious expression. "I must, however, insist that both of you never tell me or anyone else in this school about the future. We cannot change what is meant to be."

Ginny nodded. "That sounds fair, but why do you want us to join the school? Wouldn't that change things?"

"Not necessarily," Dumbledore answered with a smile. "Besides, would you rather remain locked up in a room until I fix this? No point in boring yourselves to death. You might as well learn while you are here."

"Locked up in a room?" Draco asked, furrowing his brow in angry confusion.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, you see if the Ministry were to find out that the two of you have a Time-Turner and misused it, you would be imprisoned." Both teenagers opened their mouths in shock. "That is why I must work on this in secret. The two of you most likely have already been spotted by some of the students and professors already. By introducing yourselves as exchange students, it will be less likely for others to ask too many questions concerning your parentage and family, etcetera."

Draco and Ginny exchanged glances once more, this time shrugging their shoulders in unison. They didn't particularly like being stuck together in this time, but it was better to be matriculating amongst other students at school rather than being locked up together in a room for Merlin knew how long.

"However, we cannot have the two of you as you are now," Dumbledore stated as he clapped his hands together with what looked like glee. "We must give you different names as both of your families are rather well-known, especially yours, Draco. I am assuming that you are Lucius's son."

Draco scowled and reluctantly nodded in affirmation.

"And Ginevra," the headmaster said, turning to the petite girl, "that red hair is unmistakeable, but I can remedy that quite easily."

Ginny opened her mouth in confusion and then watched as the older wizard took out his wand and performed a complex Glamour Charm, turning her straight, long red hair into even longer blonde hair with defined waves and ringlets at the bottom. Her honey-coloured eyes were now a sea green, and the numerous freckles on her face and arms were replaced with a healthy pink glow on her ivory-set skin. Her facial structure and everything else about her remained the same. She was still Ginny, yet she looked like an entirely different person—almost beautiful.

"There, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You shall now be known as Geneviève Belette from Beauxbatons, and you, Draco, will be Drago Unglaub from Durmstrang—Hogwarts' two new exchange students."

Draco stared openly at Ginny, having ignored most of what the professor had just said, and quickly turned away in disgust. Ginny didn't know what to say or do as Dumbledore began to alter her dress so that it looked more like the Beauxbatons' uniform, which was much more sophisticated and feminine. The headmaster then went to work on Draco's uniform, much to the blond's chagrin. After a few minutes, he had them both completely transformed. Dumbledore had offered to change Draco's look, but the blond refused. If Draco and Ginny didn't know any better, they would have assumed that Dumbledore was a natural stylist and a gifted tailor (and was having way too much fun with this make-over).

"Wait," the old wizard said as the two students fiddled with their new clothes. "In order to make this believable I am going to perform a spell that allows your voices to be disguised. You will both have accents."

They both looked at him quizzically.

"What do you mean, Professor?" Ginny asked.

"Well, if you are to be from a foreign school, you must have the correct accent or people will know that you are lying," he explained with a wink. "We will have it so that you two can understand each other but those around you will only hear your respective _foreign_ languages."

Both continued to stare at the headmaster, nonplussed.

"Draco," Dumbledore began, "when you speak as you are now, to anyone else except Ginevra and yourself, you will be speaking German." Draco nodded in understanding. "I trust you know how to speak German?"

"Yes."

"Good." Dumbledore nodded contently. "So when you speak German, to others it will be as though you are speaking English but with a German accent. And Ginevra, the same goes for you except with French. Do you know any French?"

"A bit," she answered sheepishly.

"Well, that will have to do. Obviously you can both write in English." He beamed at the two 'exchange' students, who still looked at him with puzzled and somewhat vacant expressions on their faces.

"Professor, why is it that only _I_ will be able to understand Malfoy when he speaks English when he is, in fact, speaking German to everyone else listening?" she queried, confusing herself with her own question.

"That is because this charm is much like the Secret-Keeper spell: only you will know the truth. I will teach it to both you and Draco so that you can use it on one another."

"This sounds like a dreadfully complicated plan," Draco commented loudly, and Dumbledore grinned.

"This Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy." He motioned to their surroundings with a dramatic wave of his hands. "It's not complicated; it's magic."

"No," Draco muttered, hooking a thumb back at Ginny. "I'm fairly sure it's both."

Professor Dumbledore laughed at this and then went straight to work, showing them an extremely complicated spell that they dearly hoped to get right.

**-x-**

The Sorting began shortly after their lengthy conversation with the headmaster. Dumbledore had escorted the two teenagers to the Great Hall and placed them behind the first-years, who were waiting to be introduced and sorted. After all the young students had been accepted into their proper houses, the headmaster then called for everyone's attention as he announced that Hogwarts was to have two exchange students this semester: Geneviève Belette from Beauxbatons and Drago Unglaub from Durmstrang.

The entire hall grew silent, and there was much whispering amongst the different houses. Many comments were made about how pretty the blonde-haired girl was with her big green eyes and beautiful hair. There were also many nods and voiced observations on how the German bloke looked an awful lot like Lucius Malfoy.

"Miss Belette, if you could take a seat here and put on the Sorting Hat." Dumbledore kindly pointed the way.

Ginny nervously walked over to the chair and sat down. Tentatively picking up the hat, she hesitated for a moment with the hat in her hands. She didn't know why she was nervous. She had done this six years ago. It wasn't as if anything was going to change. It was just that she was conscious of her new clothes and new hair. She felt as if someone was going to call her out on the lie and expose her for who she truly was. It didn't help that all eyes were on her, judging her.

Ginny smiled faintly at the crowd, who were staring at her with mild rapture. Finally gaining back her courage, she lifted the hat and placed it on her head. After a moment's pause, it began to speak loudly in her mind, frightening her at first. It sounded angry.

_**What is this? Why are you here?**_

_I'm Gin—_

_**I know who you are! I asked why are—bah, never mind. Why have you put me on? You have already been sorted.**_

_Yes, I know. Could you please just sort me back into Gryffindor?_

_**I'll do no such thing.**_

_What?_

_**You heard me.**_

_But—_

_**No 'buts'. You shouldn't be here. Your presence is a mockery to the sorting process!**_

_I'm sorry, but—_

_**What did I just say about 'buts'? No. If you want to play around and be re-sorted into the same house, then you are in for a rude awakening, my dear.**_

_Wait. What?_

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat cried.

Applause erupted from the Slytherin table, and Ginny took off the hat, standing up in a state of shock. She could faintly hear Draco snickering beside her and the dull roar of approval coming from the far corner of the hall. She passed Dumbledore, who stopped clapping to pat her back in a congratulatory manner, and made her way down the stairs as though she were in a trance.

The house of green and silver was cheering rather loudly, and a few boys gave her appreciative glances, winking and whistling. Several moved to make room for her, and she finally took the seat closest to her, beside a first-year. The blushing little raven-haired boy brushed away whatever crumbs or dirt might have been on the bench, and she absently smiled at him before she sat down.

"Merci," she muttered quietly, forgetting that she had to actually speak French in order for anyone to understand her.

Those around her grinned foolishly, already taken in by her supposed charm—her French accent, that is. Ginny had failed to notice, however, that a tall and stately blond was observing her from the other end of the table, appraising her with critical grey eyes.

Back at the Sorting line, Draco was still laughing. He never thought that the Weasley girl would have been sorted into Slytherin, but it served her right for getting him into this mess. While he didn't fancy being in the same house with her, he wouldn't mind watching her get knocked down a few pegs by his fellow housemates.

He was still snorting to himself when Dumbledore introduced him. He went over and picked the hat up, confidently placing it on his head. He waited for a moment and heard nothing until a loud growling noise suddenly erupted in his mind.

_**Another one?**_

_Yes, another one to sort. So sorry to tax you and make you do a job that you only have to perform once a year._

_**A smart-arse too, huh? That does it.**_

_Listen, _Hat,_ just sort me into—_

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat cried.

_What?_

The applause from the Gryffindor table was somewhat less than exuberant; however, Draco didn't notice. He seemed to have gone temporarily deaf and blind. He slowly rose to his feet, trying to take in the information: the hat had sorted him into Gryffindor. Gryffindor!

He stumbled down the stairs, looking paler than usual, and made his way to the table of his newly appointed house. He was trying desperately not to vomit on the floor. A few awe-struck girls moved aside and offered him a seat. He shakily sat down and swallowed hard, looking down at his dinner plate with disgust.

This couldn't possibly be. He was in Gryffindor and Weasley was in Slytherin! This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a dream. No, it was a nightmare! It had to be. Soon he'd wake up in his bed in his dorm room and discover that this was all some horrible nightmare.

The Marauders glanced up from the table and cast wary eyes on the pale, delicate-looking blond who was just placed in their house. For a German bloke he seemed rather slender with haughty features similar to that of the nasty git Malfoy from Slytherin. They then turned their heads and directed their attention to the other table where the little, blonde French girl sat, who looked ready to pass out at any moment.

This was definitely going to be an interesting term ...

**-x-**

* * *

**Author**_**'s**_** notes: **I am taking creative license by having Lucius born in 1958 (as opposed to 1954). Therefore, in this time-line setting, Lucius is in his seventh year, Narcissa is in her sixth, and the Marauders (including Lily and Snape) are in their fifth.

**Geneviève Belette** is French for Guinevere or Ginevra Weasel, and **Drago Unglaub** is German for Dragon Without Faith (as you all know, Draco is Latin for the Dragon constellation, and Malfoy is archaic French for Bad Faith).

**Birth dates****:** Lucius b. 1954; Cissa b. 1955; Snape, Lily, & Marauders b. 1960. (My version has Lucius b. in 1958 and Cissa in 1959 while the others remain the same).

**Durmstrang** is in Northern Europe. In interviews, JKR states that the school is in Norway or Sweden (how specific). While it is very feasible for me to have it in Sweden or Switzerland (as Durmstrang has mountains), I want Draco to be German and refuse to divulge the location of the school—as he has no clue where it is anyway.

**Language/Accent Spell** – This is a variation of the Fidelius Charm, the Secret-Keeper spell where only Draco and Ginny can understand each other perfectly. Everyone else hears them speak in either French or German whilst they are conversing in English to one another. In order for them to communicate with other students in English, both must attempt to speak their respective (feigned) languages. Draco is educated enough (and probably has family in Germany) so that he can speak German with ease; thus his spoken English, to other students' ears, is flawless. Ginny, on the other hand, is not very gifted at French, so she will speak broken English to everyone (even worse than Phlegm—I mean Fleur).


	3. You Have Friends, I Have Enemies

**Chapter 3 – You Have Friends, I Have Enemies**

Ginny sat at the table of her new house and sighed. In her mind, things couldn't get much worse. She lifted her chin and glanced over at the Gryffindor table where she immediately spotted a younger boy who was the shocking image of Harry. He was talking animatedly amongst his mates: one was handsome and dark-haired, another was small and mousy-looking, and the other was tall and skinny, looking worse for the wear. They were all nodding their heads and stealing glances at their newly acquired Gryffindor: Drago Unglaub.

_That must be James Potter and the rest of the Marauders_, Ginny mused to herself, feeling slightly star-struck.

Dumbledore had told them that it was the year 1975, but she had no idea what age that put the Marauders at. She could tell that they weren't in their seventh year, so they were most likely in their fifth or sixth.

Ginny's eyes suddenly met with Draco's, and he scowled at her. With a deliberate motion, he pointed to the Great Hall door and then to his wrist, holding up his hand to indicate five. He wanted to meet her outside the hall in five minutes? She nodded in reluctant acquiescence and picked up her glass of milk to take a drink when she felt a light hand on her shoulder.

"Hi, Geneviève?" a mellifluous voice asked from behind, and Ginny turned to see a beautiful blonde with pale blue eyes looking down at her.

"Oui," Ginny replied, forgetting that she had to actually speak French for everyone to understand her. "Mon nom est Geneviève, mais vous pouvez m'appeler Gin." She saw the confused look on the younger Slytherin girl's face, and the former redhead searched her brain for what little French she knew. "I am Gin?"

"Hello, Gin," the pale blonde greeted with a small smile, which instantly made her features even more attractive. "My name is Narcissa Black, but you can call me Cissa."

Ginny's mouth opened and shut quickly. Narcissa Black? That name was familiar, and so was the girl standing in front of her. Ginny's eyes suddenly widened in understanding. This was Sirius Black's cousin—Draco's mother! She seemed a lot friendlier than she remembered her to be at the Battle of Hogwarts. She was still tall and stately like she was back then but now she not only looked younger but less cold and reserved.

"Allo, Cissa," Ginny managed to choke out in surprise; however, in her French accent, it sounded quite charming.

Narcissa's smile widened, and she artfully shooed the first-year out of his seat and sat down next to Ginny. The former Gryffindor returned the smile as she watched the boy scurry away in fright. Perhaps young Narcissa wasn't so different from her future self.

"That German bloke, Drago," Narcissa whispered, leaning in close to Ginny's ear, "is he your boyfriend?"

Ginny snapped her head back in shock. "Non! Jamais!" she cried in disgust, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "Comment pouvez-vous penser cela?"

Narcissa sat back and looked at Ginny with wide, confused eyes.

"Uh, non, 'e iz not," Ginny corrected herself in poor English.

Narcissa gave Ginny a sly smile while Ginny herself tried her best not to swear profusely about the blonde's future son.

"Too bad he was sorted into Gryffindor. He's very cute," Narcissa observed the seemingly unaware Draco with calculating eyes. "He looks a lot like Lucius Malfoy."

Ginny sneaked a peek at Draco and nodded slightly. "Oui, c'est vrai ..." She paused and glanced back at the Slytherin girl. "Je m'excuse, terrible iz my anglais." Ginny hated being so incompetent with languages. It made her sound like a stuttering idiot.

"That's okay. I think I can figure it out as long as you speak slowly." Narcissa smiled reassuringly. "Are you coming with us to the dormitories?"

Ginny gave a curt nod and pointed towards the professors' table. "Oui, mais je pense que je dois aller voir le professeur Dumbledore."

Narcissa stared at her blankly. "_That_ was not slow."

Ginny closed her eyes and mentally cursed herself before tentatively putting a hand on the blonde's slender arm. "Je m'excuse, Cissa. To Dumbledore I go see now."

"Oh, okay," Narcissa said, finally understanding what the smaller girl had meant. "So I will see you in the common room later?"

"Oui—yes." Ginny nodded her head and blushed, lowering her hand so that the younger Slytherin could rise. "It iz ... pleasant ... see you, Cissa." Broken English was better than no English at all.

"You too, Gin. See you soon!" Narcissa waved politely and went back over to join her friends.

Ginny waved back, unable to stop herself from grinning foolishly. At least she had made one friend in the past, even if it was Draco's mother. Just then, she glanced over at the Gryffindor table, searching for silver-blond hair. Nothing. He must have already been waiting outside the Great Hall.

Some of the students had already dispersed but most were still at their respective tables, working on second and third helpings of the delicious feast. Ginny managed to make her way out, stopping only once to greet a student who had asked her to say something in French. She supposed that she would have to get used to things like that. Luckily, she had to only speak English for everyone else to hear French.

"We have to get out of here!" a voice hissed suddenly from behind.

Turning sharply, Ginny felt someone grab her arm and pull her into the shadows. Several colourful expletives and barely evaded right hooks later, Draco managed to calm the younger Weasley down. Wresting her arm free of Draco Malfoy's tenacious grip, Ginny shot the boy a scathing look before coolly crossing her arms over her chest.

"We can't leave until Professor Dumbledore is able to tell us how to operate the Time-Turner."

"I don't care," Draco spat, stepping out from the darkness of the doorway. "Let's just take it and wing it."

"_Wing it_?" Ginny repeated dubiously.

"Weasley," Draco began with a hint of desperation in his voice, "I can_not_ be in Gryffindor,"

"How do you think I feel about being in Slytherin?" she countered, raising a blonde eyebrow.

Draco scoffed. "They seem to have greeted you rather well," he rejoined with unrestrained disgust, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "People haven't been sizing _you_ up for a casket."

She couldn't help but laugh at this. Draco Malfoy couldn't seem to ingratiate himself with anyone, no matter where he went or _when_.

"People are drawn to me, Malfoy," Ginny stated with a smug look of superiority. "I have a scintillating personality, you know—unlike you."

"Scintillating, my foot!"

They continued bickering back and forth, occasionally pointing a finger at the other. A few students had gathered inside the door, watching the two fight.

"What are they doing?" a Hufflepuff girl asked the Ravenclaw boy who stood beside her.

"I think they're arguing," he answered simply.

"Yeah, but how can they understand one another?" she asked, looking nonplussed. "He's speaking German and she's speaking French."

The Ravenclaw tilted his head and closely observed the couple as they began to speak quite animatedly now, voices and tempers rising high.

"Well, France and Germany are neighbouring countries; they are most likely semi-fluent in each other's native tongue," he explained logically.

The Hufflepuff shook her head, unconvinced. "Then why isn't he speaking to her in French?"

"I dunno." The Ravenclaw shrugged his shoulders indifferently and turned to walk away. "Maybe 'cause French sounds girly?"

Ginny and Draco continued hurling insults at one another, not once considering that anyone else might be observing them and listening in on their conversation. They were too wrapped up in the argument—so much so that they had failed to notice the two professors who had approach them.

"Mister Unglaub," Professor McGonagall addressed Draco with formality. "I am here to show you to your room." She smiled somewhat pleasantly. "You will have your own private quarters in the Gryffindor Tower."

Draco stopped yelling at Ginny and turned to stare at the older woman. "Gryffindor has private rooms?"

The Gryffindor Head of House nodded. "Yes, all of the houses do. They used to be reserved for Head Boys and Girls and for visitors when I was young."

Ginny looked at Draco and could see him struggling not to counter with some rude response to the older woman, such as 'So when Hogwarts was first opened?' Ginny laughed to herself at the joke not made and then frowned. _She_ had just thought of that rude quip to her former Head of House, not Draco.

"And I will be escorting you, my lovely Miss Belette, to your own private quarters in the Slytherin dormitories," Professor Slughorn stated, startling Ginny, who had not seen him there.

Draco and Ginny exchanged glances that could only be classified as abject fear. What had they got themselves into?

"Say goodnight to your friend," Slughorn said to Ginny, before placing a large hand on her back and guiding her towards the Entrance Hall. "You will see him in the morning."

Ginny glanced over her shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Draco, who had jumped at Professor McGonagall's touch and tried to walk ahead of her. The Slytherin Head of House went about leading Ginny through the secret entrance to the Slytherin dormitories and told her the password to get into the common room. Once inside, he ushered her into her private quarters and left her to her own devices.

Ginny had assumed that the bedroom would be small and plainly adorned, but she should have known better—she was in Slytherin, after all. The room itself was massive, almost the same size of the dorm room that she shared with three other girls in Gryffindor. There was a single queen-sized canopy bed in the middle of the floor, surrounded with rich furniture of mahogany. A leather sofa and a pair of matching chairs sat in front of a large stone fireplace, and a huge oak desk stood at the other end, filled with quills, inkpots, and extra parchment. Obviously, no expense had been spared with decorations.

Dumbledore had left a luggage trunk at the front of the bed. Ginny assumed that he had done this while she and Draco had their row in the hall. She opened the chest and found several pretty dresses inside and some rather old-fashioned but still stylish clothes. Unfortunately, there were no jeans or trousers. In the wizarding world, witches had not begun to wear slacks until the early 'Eighties (until that time, they were only allowed to wear trousers on the Quidditch pitch: the proper attire for playing the sport).

Ginny took out a pink, frilly-looking nightgown and grimaced. Pink never went well with her hair, but then she was a blonde now, so it would do nicely. She set the gown down on the bed and turned around to examine the room, deciding that she could unpack later. She figured that she should go into the common room to see if Narcissa was there. After all, Ginny did promise to meet up with the tall blonde, and it would be rude of her if she did not go.

"Gin, you made it," Narcissa said with a smile as she raised herself from the sofa in front of the fireplace.

She took the petite girl's hand and led her over to the lounge. It was fairly empty in the common room: a few older boys were sitting over at one of the tables playing chess and a couple of younger girls were lying on the floor playing marbles.

"Everyone is still unpacking," Narcissa explained, seeing Ginny turn around to take in her surroundings. "They don't start coming out for another twenty minutes or so. My stuff is already set up. I'm quick with a wand." She gave Ginny a playful wink.

"Je suis inconfortable ici," Ginny began in French before correcting herself. "I am not ... com-for-ta-ble here now. Soon, yes."

Narcissa nodded in understanding. "I hear you have your own room," she stated with genuine envy. "I have to share mine with Vi, Mary, and Beth." The tall blonde then made a face and stuck out her tongue.

Ginny laughed, tittering with a French accent. She would have never imagined Draco's mother to be so funny or so friendly.

"So tell me—" Narcissa reached out to touch Ginny's hand "—what is it like at Beauxbatons?"

Ginny's smile faltered. She had not anticipated questions about the French school.

"It iz très ... cold et pretty?" she replied, offering the first two French adjectives that sprang to mind.

"Cold?" Narcissa repeated with a frown. "But isn't the South of France rather temperate and warm?"

Ginny shook her head and then nodded, blushing a deep pink. "Oui, vous êtes corrects. C'est froid cette fois de l'année."

Narcissa pursed her lips together, and Ginny mentally cursed herself. She wished that she could remember to try to speak French with the students so that they could actually understand her—that and she wished that she could actually speak the silly language.

"Er, it iz cold zis time of zee year."

"Ah." Narcissa nodded, moving in closer to Ginny and furtively glancing at the older male Slytherins at the back of the room. "Must be nice to see boys, nay?"

"Uh, yes," Ginny answered, swallowing nervously. Where was this leading?

"I think Malfoy has taken a liking to you," Narcissa commented, unintentionally answering Ginny's question with a devilish grin on her face.

"Pardonnez-moi?" Ginny asked, stunned. How would Narcissa know if Draco liked her?

"Lucius Malfoy," Narcissa said, grabbing Ginny's arm and directing her gaze to the tall, gorgeous bloke with mesmerising grey eyes. He was standing in the corner of the room directly above two other Slytherin boys playing chess. "He's been staring at you since you arrived."

"Moi?" Ginny swallowed hard. Lucius Malfoy was staring at her?

Ginny looked up to meet his intense steel-grey eyes and then quickly lowered her newly made green ones. He _was_ looking at her!

"Il est très beau," she stated shyly, blushing once more. "Very handsome."

"Yes, he is," Narcissa agreed with an emphatic nod, seeming to derive entertainment from Ginny's bashfulness. "I fancied him for a bit, but he won't give me the time of day."

Ginny frowned. She had almost forgot that Narcissa would end up marrying Lucius. Why was Cissa not dating him now?

"He doesn't seem to go for younger women, if you know what I mean," the pretty blonde added with a wink.

Ginny nodded, acting as though she understood the implied meaning. She did not.

Narcissa smiled and pushed her shoulders close together, letting her long, pale blonde hair hang down. "I'm sure you're tired from your journey."

Ginny nodded slowly, figuring that the Slytherin girl was now bored with her.

"We usually play a game of Exploding Snap before bed. Are you up for a few rounds?" Narcissa offered.

"Mais oui!" Ginny smiled broadly and stood up. "I go change now."

Ginny hoped that she had made sense for Narcissa merely smiled. Ginny then turned around and headed towards her room when she ran, face first, into a broad, sweet-swelling chest.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle Belette," a silky voiced purred.

Ginny lifted her face to meet silver eyes, dark and seductive, staring down at her. Lucius Malfoy had his strong arms outstretched, holding onto her slender form to give her support. A few strands of long white-blond hair fell into his eyes, and she fought the urge to brush them away from his devastatingly handsome face. How could an eighteen-year-old boy look so gorgeous?

"B-bonsoir, Monsieur Malfoy," Ginny stuttered as she took a nervous step back, reluctantly releasing herself from his hold.

"Please, call me Lucius," he offered with a charming smile as his half-lidded eyes subtly roamed over her body.

Ginny suddenly became very self-conscious. She knew that he was appraising her and that she should be affronted—even slap him for being so bold. Something about him, however, made his actions seem acceptable and anything but lewd.

"Lucius," she said his name wistfully and internally cursed herself. "I-I go now." With that, she took off towards her room, blushing profusely as a tall, long-haired blond observed her retreat with severe grey eyes and an amused grin playing on his lips.

**-x-**

Draco managed to shoo away the old bird McGonagall and take in the décor of his private room. It was smaller than he had expected. The bright gold and maroon colours made him want to vomit, but at least there was a fireplace and a window view. He had missed such a panorama in his dorm room in the dungeons situated underneath the lake. He glanced down at the foot of his four-poster bed and saw a large storage trunk sitting there. Lifting the lid, he pursed his lips together and made a face as he daintily picked up the dated, cheap clothing with his fingertips. It was then that he wished he knew more about Altering Charms.

After he put away his clothes and tidied up the very Gryffindor-esque room, Draco wandered out into the common area and grimaced. It wasn't that the Gryffindor dormitories were insufficient or inadequate. It was just that they were cheap and garish-looking, devoid of any class. He made his way down the half-set of stairs into the main section of the room, seeing several students walking about, talking and playing games. He found an empty cushioned chair near the fire and took a seat.

A few girls predictably stared at him, grinning and blushing as they whispered into one another's ears whilst stealing glances. This wasn't something that he was unaccustomed to in Slytherin; however, having the boys stare at him with open contempt and shoot him mutinous glances _was_ uncommon. No one in his own house openly defied him, but then he wasn't in 'his' house any more, was he? No, he was in Gryffindor now.

While Draco wasn't one to ordinarily feel threatened or uneasy, least of all by students of Hogwarts, he was wary. Seated on the lounge to his left were four somewhat familiar characters. The slightly shorter boy with the floppy fringe and the rounded spectacles was undoubtedly Harry Potter's father. The other three criminals surrounding him were his mates, the 'Marauders'.

Draco had heard of the name before from his father. Lucius, while several years older, had attended school with the quartet of self-proclaimed predators. Both his father and his father's friends did not get along with the younger Gryffindors. Draco, for the life of him, couldn't understand the Marauders' appeal. They labelled themselves under a name that was synonymous with attackers and vultures, and other Gryffindors loved them for this. Were they all really that stupid?

"Hey, Ungl—Drago," James Potter greeted, unsure of how to pronounce Draco's German last name.

Draco breathed out through his nose and scowled. He didn't want Potter to address him by his first name, especially a name so close to his actual one. But he didn't really want to be called Unglaub either. He would rather the boy sod off and not talk to him at all.

"Potter," Draco growled.

James's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know my name? I haven't introduced myself yet."

The three other boys looked over from the top of the sofa. They had not yet risen from their places on the lounge, but they still looked ready to pounce at a moment's notice if the older exchange student dared to threaten their mate.

"Your name is embroidered on the lapel of your robes," Draco stated dryly as he pointed to the Marauder's attire without glancing back at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the fire, finding it more entertaining.

James looked down at his robes and frowned. He _did_ have his name written on the fabric. He glanced back at the older boy and grimaced.

"How does a German know a word like 'embroidered'?" he asked. "You speak good English."

"I speak English _well_," Draco corrected with a smirk on his pointed face. "I'm educated. Of course, I am fluent in several languages. I try not to limit myself." He looked up at younger boy and sneered.

James shook his head and scowled. "Not only do you _look_ like Malfoy, you _act_ like him too." He turned to stare down his nose at the blond. "Arrogant prat."

Draco narrowed his eyes and gripped the armrests of his chair in anger. He refused to let this younger punk draw him into a fight. He didn't need to earn a detention on his first day. He was eighteen, for Merlin's sake. What was this kid, fifteen? He wouldn't stoop to his level. He was above this sort of thing now.

"Shouldn't you be torturing some first-years right now?" Draco asked, dismissing the younger boy with a wave of his hand.

James cursed under his breath and walked back over to his mates. They talked amongst themselves in whispers, occasionally casting side-long glances at Draco. He chose to ignore them and picked up a paper to read.

"The Ministry predicts a recession for Muggle London," Draco read aloud and dropped the paper onto his lap, resting his head against the back of the chair and letting out an irate sigh.

He had almost forgot that he was twenty years in the past. There was no point in him reading the paper unless he'd had the foresight to bring a sports' almanac back with him. Then he could have done some really lucrative betting, and this trip would have only been a half-waste of his time.

Eyes still closed, Draco silently cursed to himself that he hadn't kept better track of sports' scores of the past. It was during this moment of distraction that someone was able to successfully encroach upon his space without his notice.

"Hey, Drago, think fast!" a voice called out, and Draco opened his eyes and swiftly drew out his wand.

On instinct, he threw a nonverbal _Petrificus Totalus_ spell in the direction of the person who had shouted his name. It turned out to be his disowned second cousin, Sirius Black, who now lay frozen on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his wand clutched tightly in his hand. The rest of the Marauders bounded to their feet, standing over their mate with wands drawn. Draco, however, was still gripping his weapon and glared down at them menacingly with cold eyes, giving them pause to retaliate.

"You might want to reconsider trying to hex a seventh-year from Durmstrang," he threatened as the other three fifth-years stared up at him with wide, slightly petrified eyes.

Draco shook his head and muttered 'idioten' before making his way back to his room. As he went, everyone stood back and out of his way. It was much like witnessing the Red Sea part. He smirked. The night was a success: he managed to alienate himself from other students in his adopted house, scare the crap out of everyone else in the room, and humiliate one of the Marauders. Perhaps he could stomach living in this dump for a little bit longer.

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes: **I promise that this story will not be riddled with French and German. Draco can speak perfect German so there is no need to see many phrases here, except when he's insulting Gryffindors. Ginny, on the other hand, will still always speak broken English (much like Fleur); however, you will soon discover that there is someone whom she can speak perfect ' French' to without worry. *smirks*

**Additional note:** You might have noted that I had Ginny ask Narcissa to call her Gin instead of Ginny. The French do not usually nickname someone with a 'y' on the end. How Ginny knew this? I don't know.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Non! Jamais! Comment pouvez-vous penser cela?_ = No! Never! How could you think that?

_Oui, c'est vrai_ = Yes, that's true

_Je m'excuse_ = I am sorry

_Oui, mais je pense que je dois aller voir le professeur Dumbledore_ = Yes, but I think that I have to go see Professor Dumbledore

_Je suis inconfortable ici_ = I am uncomfortable here

_C'est froid cette fois de l'année_ = It's cold this time of the year

_Idioten_ = Idiot(s) (German)


	4. Rumours, Hexes, And Pigs

**Chapter 4 – Rumours, Hexes, And Something About A Pig**

Ginny and Draco had weathered September as best they could in their respective houses. While most students in Gryffindor stayed out of Draco's way, the Marauders still shot him glares from time to time, but their idle threats were just that and only served to amuse the pale blond. Ginny, however, had fared much better. She had made friends with Narcissa, which had resulted in other sixth-years being more cordial towards her. She wasn't exactly best friends with the tall blonde, but Narcissa was kind and helpful, willing to welcome her into Slytherin. The boys, on the other hand, were less than helpful as they often stared at her and winked suggestively, making Ginny feel uncomfortable.

After a few weeks of classes and Dumbledore still not discovering what exact kind of Time-Turner they had, Draco and Ginny had been forced to settle in and adapt. Both became restless, not having real friends to hang out with, and decided to try out for their respective Quidditch teams. Draco had reluctantly joined up after being properly hassled by both Dumbledore and McGonagall. They claimed that he was too brooding and melancholic, which prevented him from making friends.

Draco had agreed to attend try-outs—if only to get the professors off his back. He did concede that it would be nice to get some exercise and release his frustrations out on the Quidditch field. However, when he made it onto the pitch he was disgruntled to discover that Potter was the captain. The Gryffindors must have really been hurting for competent players if a fifth-year was in charge. Even if Draco were to believe all the hype about Potter being this amazing player (like father, like son), a Seeker could only carry a team so far. What they were really lacking were Chasers and Beaters.

Potter, and especially his mate Black, didn't want Draco in the team, but after seeing him fly they changed their minds. Potter decided that the haughty Durmstrang student was the best thing for the team. Draco was made Chaser and, while the Gryffindor team may have disliked the blond, they had to admit that he was a great player and an excellent flyer. He even managed to help them win their first game against Ravenclaw.

After a few games, even Draco had to begrudgingly admit that Potter was actually good—better than his son, in fact. Potter was also somewhat of a dirty player, which Draco would have normally respected in a person if he hadn't been Harry Potter's father _and_ a Gryffindor. Draco had a feeling if their team actually shaped up and worked together, they could win the cup this year—not that Draco cared about Gryffindor or winning a stupid trophy. He only wanted to improve his skill in the sport. So when they finally had their game against Slytherin Draco was convinced that he—they—would win. He knew that his father loved Quidditch and was a good player in his youth, but Draco was confident in his own abilities. This was Draco's only way to prove himself to his father—even if Lucius would never know it.

When he got onto the pitch, Draco was shocked to see the Weasley girl—dressed in full Quidditch gear with her fake, long blonde hair. She was also a Chaser, which annoyed Draco immensely for some strange reason. He had not seen the girl in a week—not that he kept tabs on her. They had spoken to one another in the library a few times and in their meetings with Dumbledore. It's not like they needed to keep in contact; they weren't friends or even remotely close to tolerating one another, but he thought that she would have at least had the common decency to inform him that she was on the Slytherin Quidditch team with his father.

Glares properly exchange, both teams mounted their brooms and took to the air. The game was long and hard, physically draining the ex-Seeker. It had been a while since Draco had played so competitively, and it was his first time as a Chaser. Draco quickly discovered that being a Chaser was a lot more taxing than being a Seeker who only had to keep an eye out for a Snitch. You had to work at being a Chaser; you had to be fast and evasive; you had to score.

He had to begrudgingly admit, after a month of admitting horrible truths about Gryffindors' supposed 'skills', that the Weasley girl was rather good. She wasn't as gifted a flyer as he, but she was quick and nimble. With her on the opposing team and his father as Seeker and Captain, Slytherin was Gryffindor's only real threat as competition.

Suddenly, two figures zoomed past Draco, almost knocking him off his broom. His father was chasing after Potter, who had most likely caught sight of the Snitch. He narrowed his eyes and followed them both, his eyesight being as good as any Seeker's. He spotted the Snitch and saw that Potter was almost to it; his hand was about to clasp around the gold-winged device. Draco watched as his father reached down his leg and, with a sudden movement that registered as a blur of colour, drew his wand and hexed the Gryffindor. It was so fast that no one could even tell, except those high in the air playing—those with keen Seeker eyes.

James dropped the Snitch, and Lucius swooped down underneath, catching it with ease. He raised his hand triumphantly in the air. The announcer called it, and the stands began to erupt in cheers and applause. Slytherin had won.

Draco frowned and turned, seeing the Weasley girl hovering beside him. She was looking up at the scene with a scowl on her face. She glanced over at Draco, who promptly looked away. The players then landed their brooms and began to shake hands, quietly cursing one another. As the stadium began to empty and the teams made their way towards the changing rooms, James, Sirius, Draco, Ginny, and Lucius lingered behind, flying aimlessly in the air with an unspoken tension between them all.

"You really are a ponce, Malfoy," James muttered, directing a murderous glare Lucius's way.

Sirius hovered beside his friend, scowling at the long-haired blond. They both had to have known that Lucius was more powerful than they were, as well as bigger. There wasn't much that they could do against the older Slytherin, except voice their complaints. Anything more would have resulted in a thorough thrashing, with them on the receiving end.

"Il avait la Snitch!" Ginny said out of nowhere, pointing at James but looking directly at Lucius.

She had, obviously, not thought to speak in French so that the others could understand her. Draco watched as she glared contemptuously at his father, who sat smirking on his broom with the Snitch still in hand.

"Vous avez triché!" she accused; she was obviously too worked up to find the right words.

"Stuff it, Frenchie!" James insulted, hitting the ground and taking off towards the changing rooms.

Draco couldn't help but laugh. The Weasley girl was defending the prat, and he hadn't a clue. Potter couldn't take his anger out on Lucius so he was taking it out on a girl. What a winner.

"Pardonné-_moi_?" Ginny lowered her broom to the wet grass and took off after the bespectacled Gryffindor.

"You heard me, Frenchie!" James spat, turning around and taking several threatening steps in her direction. "Keep your pointy nose out of affairs that you do not comprehend, like Quidditch for one."

Ginny snarled. "Tu est un cochon!"

Draco snorted. This was priceless.

"French cow!" James bellowed, withdrawing his wand.

Ginny drew hers in the same instant, launching a well-executed Bat-Bogey Hex at the younger Gryffindor. Luckily, her Quidditch attire consisted of trousers with a holster for her wand. Of course, current rules prohibited carrying wands on the field for reasons that Lucius had just earlier demonstrated. Lucky for her it was the 'Seventies.

"I'll get you for that!" James cried, wiping at his nose as he shot down the bogey bats with colourful zaps.

Draco was still on his broom; laughing heartily at Potter being attacked by his own bogies, as well as enjoying the view of two Gryffindors insulting one another. It seemed fitting somehow, the Weasley girl duelling her boyfriend's father. When James aimed his wand at Ginny, Draco's laughter stopped. Before Weasley was able to disarm him, the younger boy went flying up into the air, sailing across the sky until he landed on the ground not some two-hundred yards away.

"No, you won't."

Lucius holstered his wand and landed gracefully to his feet. He let go of the Snitch, sending it back to its case, and picked up his broom before joining a shocked Ginny.

Draco was equally dumbfounded. His father had just saved the Weasley girl from being hexed, sending the annoying Potter boy flying across the field onto his arse. What in Merlin's name just happened?

"Are you well, Geneviève?" Lucius asked, genuine concern laced in his voice.

Ginny held her wand close to her chest and stared up at him with awe, nodding slowly.

"Good," Lucius said with a charming smile, before taking Ginny's hand and placing it on his forearm. "Shall I escort you to the ladies' changing room?"

"Oui." Ginny blushed a deep pink. "Merci, Lucius."

Draco felt his stomach churn as he witnessed the Weasley girl gaze up into his father's eyes. He lowered his broom and himself to the ground and dismounted. Watching the two Slytherins walk off hand-in-arm, Draco pursed his lips tightly together and frowned.

What in Merlin's name just happened?

**-x-**

The big buzz going around Slytherin the following week was that Lucius Malfoy was infatuated with the exchange student from Beauxbatons. Ginny had no idea how this rumour had begun circulating since she and Lucius were the only Slytherins on the Quidditch pitch during the Hexing Incident. It was true that the two had been seen hanging out more, but it was nothing scandalous. They had never kissed or embraced. He would occasionally reach out to hold her hand, usually to place it on his arm so that he could escort her to wherever it was that they were going. They remained in the public's eye: practising on the Quidditch pitch or hanging out in the Slytherin common room, playing Exploding Snap or chess.

They had class together and were often partnered, which led to them spending a lot of time together in the library. Lucius had also inadvertently aided her with her French. When they were semi-alone he would often speak to her in her supposed native tongue, forcing her to pick up on his vocabulary and phrasing, which made her learn the language that much easier and faster. The two were not officially dating, though. Lucius had not asked her out nor had he offered to spend time alone with her. He was the perfect gentleman, and it annoyed her. Yes, she should not have been entertaining thoughts about a man who, in her time, was more than twice her age, married, and was Draco's father, but she couldn't help it. He was charming and devastatingly handsome.

"Squib, you want to pick up the trash near the Gryffindor Tower? That corridor is beginning to smell almost as bad as you!"

Ginny's ears pricked up at the sound of the familiar voice. She creased her brow and rounded the corner, intent on chewing Draco out for being such a bigoted bastard when she stopped and stood frozen in her tracks. She had guessed the wrong Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy and his gang of seventh-years were tormenting the caretaker, Argus Filch. While Ginny was not a fan of the smarmy codger, she could not condone the Slytherins' behaviour towards the older man nor witness Filch being humiliated because he was a Squib. He was still a human being, no matter that he couldn't perform magic.

"Stop it!" she ordered firmly, and Lucius turned around with a mild look of shock registering on his normally unreadable face.

"Je m'excuse, ma chère," he returned with a formal bow, much like how Draco had on the train over a month ago.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Lucius's overt display of gallantry and charming formality. The boy got away with far too much by being suave and handsome, but he would not get off the hook with her so easily. Molly Weasley didn't raise a fool.

"Do not apologise to _me_, Lucius," she said, impatiently tapping her foot on the marble floor before deliberately pointing at the caretaker. "Apologise to Mister Filch."

Lucius straightened his back and nodded, offering Ginny a rueful smile before turning to Filch and muttering a forced apology. He managed to sound polite and formal, although anyone could tell that it was feigned. The caretaker, in turn, looked up at them both with a scowl plastered on his unattractive face. It then became painfully obvious to Ginny that Argus Filch, even in his youth, had never been considered an attractive man.

"Ma chère, you must excuse me," Lucius said with a sly smile. He turned and took her hand, chastely kissing her middle two knuckles. "I have to run to meet Slughorn to discuss extra credit."

Ginny smirked. She had discovered quite quickly that Lucius was skilled in almost every subject at school save Potions. It was one of the reasons why he occasionally allowed Severus Snape into his inner circle—to keep the dour boy around for his tutoring services. It was also somewhat amusing because as far as Ginny could recall, his son, Draco, was quite adept at the subject. However, this may have been because the Snape of their time had allowed him to coast by, but she doubted it. She had been in the same classes with Draco for the past month and a half, and Slughorn and almost every other professor had done nothing but heap praise on him. They may not have liked his morose personality, but they certainly appreciated his academic mind.

"Geneviève?" Lucius asked, shaking her from her reverie.

Why had she been thinking about Draco?

"Yes?"

"I asked you if you wanted to join me at Hogsmeade this weekend, as my date." He smiled charmingly, and his grey eyes softened in the light that poured in through the window.

"But of course, Lucius." She suddenly felt like melting.

"Excellent." He took her hand once more and turned her palm outward this time, trailing kisses up to her wrist.

Ginny blushed several shades of pink as he let go of her hand and winked at her, turning around to take off towards Slughorn's office. She hugged her books close to her chest and let out a wistful sigh, smiling dreamily at the retreating boy as butterflies did laps inside her stomach. Lucius Malfoy had just asked her out. She was so lost in the thought of dating the insanely handsome and dashing boy that she had forgot—again—that she was still technically dating Harry Potter, and that Draco Malfoy would figuratively (and possibly literally) give birth to a cow if he were to ever find out.

"You okay?"

Ginny shook her head and blinked. She was becoming rather flighty as of late, zoning out almost every time she was in Lucius's presence. She blamed the Glamour Charm that Dumbledore gave her: the blonde hair had to be addling her brain—that or Lucius was half-Veelan.

"Pardonnez-moi?"

She turned to see a pale, skinny boy dressed all in black with equally black, greasy hair and a hooked nose.

"I asked if you're okay, Geneviève," the boy repeated, pronouncing her name awkwardly with a sour expression on his face. He looked rather put out to be asking her such a desultory question.

"Oh, Snape," she said, smiling softly, finally recognising the fifth-year. "Yes, I am good."

He nodded, twisting his mouth into a frown. She was obviously blocking his path, but she hadn't noticed. Instead, she stared at him, trying to take in the younger image of a man that she had once hated, and who (in her time) was now, posthumously, one of the most respected men in the entire wizarding world.

She tiled her head to examine him. He wasn't that bad-looking, she had to admit. He just needed to bathe regularly, maybe comb his hair from time to time, wear less black, and try to go out in the sun more often.

"May I pass?" he asked impatiently.

"Oui, je m'excuse."

Ginny stepped to the side to let him pass, and the sallow-looking fifteen-year-old gave her one last sour look before scurrying past. She had been conversing with a young Snape! This time period was absolutely wild! But what was even more wild was the fact that her thoughts kept returning to Lucius—Lucius Malfoy's long, silky white-blond hair and piercing grey eyes.

**-x-**

Draco managed to spend most of his spare time in his room—taking a much-needed nap. He had been taking to the Quidditch pitch every morning before classes and then after school. He wasn't practising with the team but rather working on getting himself back into the game. He hadn't played Quidditch at all in his sixth and seventh years; he really needed to get back into form and learn more about being a proper Chaser, which required him getting into much better shape. He could convince himself that he was doing this because he wanted to improve, but the real reason was much more personal than that: he wanted to beat his father.

One day, after Transfiguration class, Draco had taken off to his room and collapsed on his bed. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep, dreaming about winning Quidditch games and impressing his father. And it was from this deep and satisfying sleep that he was roused awake by a sudden knock at his door. He blinked his eyes open and sat up on the bed, still fully clothed and lying on top of the covers. Was someone waking him for lunch? No. No one cared to tell him when anything was going on. Potter didn't even remind him about practise—not that he needed reminding.

So it was with sleepy confusion that the tall, lean blond ambled his way over to his door and opened it without asking who was so impatiently imploring for seeking his attention. Draco looked down and scowled. Potter was annoyingly rapping his knuckles against the door. It figured.

"Potter," Draco growled sleepily, trying to bring his brain back in focus on what he was saying so that the younger boy could understand.

He had dimly thought to not bother and just speak English so that Potter only heard German, but then the bothersome Gryffindor would have probably only asked him to repeat himself, and he didn't feel like conversing more than he had to.

"What do you want?"

"You have to stop playing on the field every single morning, German," James answered rigidly.

'German' had become Draco's nickname amongst the Marauders—well, only Sirius and James called him that. Remus addressed him as 'Drago', and Peter tended to just make a strangled yelping sound and would then run from his sight. Draco didn't mind being called German. It was better than being called Drago or Unglaub. He'd rather they not call upon him at all. He found himself secretly wondering how these boys ever managed to hatch an original idea inside their thick skulls. 'German'? Seriously, that's all that they could come up with?

Draco frowned. "What?"

"The other houses have been complaining that one person—you—has been taking up all the time on the Quidditch pitch, in the morning before class and after school." James shook his head, scowling slightly. "Listen, Drago, I don't mind that you're putting in all that practise and extra effort—" he scratched the back of his head and gave Draco a somewhat sheepish look "—but it's just that if the others complain then our actual practise time as a team could be cut."

"Fine," Draco answered, striding past the younger Gryffindor.

He was too tired to argue and maybe he did need to take a break. He could always practise flying elsewhere; it wasn't like he really needed the intense training anymore. He had got back into shape rather quickly and had adequately caught onto the dynamics of being a Chaser. Besides, he'd be heading back to his time any day now. He could settle for just practising with the team.

"German, I am just telling you the rules. You don't need to be such a ponce about it!" James yelled at his back.

Draco turned around. How had he been a ponce? He said 'fine' not 'piss off, wanker'—although he probably should have.

"Potter, just leave him be," an authoritative voice warned.

Draco looked over his shoulder and saw a very pretty redhead with bright, emerald eyes glaring at the bespectacled Gryffindor with disdain.

"Defending another misfit, Evans?" James asked, looking sour.

"Sod off, you useless toerag," Lily Evans retorted with a roll of her eyes, before dismissing Potter with a wave of her hand.

"Whatever," he growled, turning around to exit the common room.

Draco watched Potter stomp out the portrait door, and Evans turned to look at him with her arms crossed lightly over her chest. A slightly amused expression played across her face.

"Sorry about that," she apologised. "I realise that Gryffindor hasn't exactly given you a warm welcome since you arrived."

Draco shrugged indifferently and scowled. Was she trying to be nice? If so, why wait a month and a half to reach out to him? Women, in general, were complicated; Gryffindor women, as a principle, were stupid.

"Ironically enough, he was trying to be nice to you," Lily said with a smile, tilting her head.

"I don't need you to defend me," Draco said quietly.

"No, you boys rarely do," she commented dryly.

It wasn't like he was trying to defend his masculinity in front of others; they were entirely alone. He just disliked the girl and Gryffindors in general.

"Du dreckiges Schlammblut," he muttered under his breath.

He figured that she couldn't understand German, and when she looked up at him with calculating eyes and laughed, Draco thought that he had assumed right. But when he looked closer, Draco noticed that Lily's light-hearted laugh was belied by the cold look in her deep green eyes. Suddenly, her laughter turned mocking and slightly evil.

"You know, you remind me of a really good friend of mine," she stated evenly with a perfect smile on her face. "He says and does rude things, just like you." Her smile then quickly faded to a scowl. "The thing is, _Drago_, you are _not_ a good friend of mine so you'd better watch what you say around me. Got it?"

The threat in her voice and even in her eyes was unmistakeable. Draco nodded in understanding, slightly wary of what the redhead would do to him. He was consciously aware of how talented Lily Evans was at Potions (hearing Slughorn drone on and on about her) and in other areas, having witnessed her bravado for the past month. Frankly, she frightened him a little. She had a restrained temper, unlike the Weasley girl, which made her unpredictable, therefore dangerous.

Draco finally walked past the redhead back towards his room, shaking his head. Lily, on the other hand, smiled and turned to exit out the portrait of the Fat Lady. She bounded down the stairs and made her way towards the dungeons.

"Hey, Sev!" she called out, seeing her best mate make a risky flight towards the Entrance Hall. "You okay? You look like you just saw You-Know-Who." She frowned.

"Yeah, Lily," Severus answered, slowing down and allowing the pretty redhead to catch up. "I just ran into one of the exchange students ..." He paused, searching for the right words. "They're weird."

"Tell me about it!" Lily snorted. "They're rude too." She then looked down at her watch and shook her head, pushing Severus forward. "C'mon, Sev! We're going to be late for Potions."

**-x-**

The next morning Draco had gone straight down to breakfast instead of practising Quidditch. He had managed to avoid the Marauders and the scary Lily Evans and sat as far away from the others as he could, which was virtually impossible. He glanced up from his meal of eggs and toast to see his father walk in with a pretty-looking girl on his arm. Draco's mouth dropped open and he did a double-take. It was the Weasley girl!

He had forgot that she was a blonde now, but it wasn't just the hair and eye colour that made her look different: she now wore dresses that didn't look like hand-me-downs and light make-up. She wasn't dolled-up in the slightest, but she had a sort of natural beauty to her, like the girl next door. He guessed that he hadn't really noticed it before. He certainly hadn't been paying attention to her change in attire and appearance these past couple of weeks since he had become so engrossed in Quidditch and his studies.

What really had him concerned, besides his realisation that he found the Weasley girl to be mildly attractive, was the fact that she looked to be hanging off his father. Seriously, what chance did she think she had with him? His father had better taste. Besides, from what his mother had told him, this was the year that his mother and father had begun to date.

Draco went back to his breakfast and shook his head, determined to ignore the little Weaslette and his father. He had to go see Dumbledore today to make sure that the old coot was coming closer to realising a solution for his problem (and the Weasley girl's problem too, he supposed).

It was this thought dwelling on his mind when two sixth-years beside him started whispering. They were discussing the morning gossip. Draco had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in disgust at the trivial female pastime. He had no idea that Hogwarts of the past was just as much of a rumour mill as Hogwarts of the present. So when the news finally reached his ear that Lucius Malfoy was dating the new exchange student, Geneviève, Draco almost choked on his eggs.

His father was dating Ginny Weasley? In what universe?

Draco put down his fork and tried not to empty the contents of his breakfast onto the plate in front of him. He looked over at the Slytherin table and glared. How dare she date his father? The manipulative tramp! Didn't she know that his father was supposed to date his mother? He certainly knew this. It was the testament to his birth! Besides, wasn't the girl supposed to be in love with Harry Potter? What a degenerate slut! He would have to confront her about this immediately.

Watching and waiting, Draco saw his opportunity when the petite blonde excused herself from the table and made her way out the doors of the Great Hall. He accosted her at once.

"Weasley, what do you think you're doing?" Draco grabbed Ginny's arm and dragged her behind the door—as this now seemed to be his customary manner of greeting the former redhead.

"Malfoy, get your hands off me!" Ginny hissed, freeing her arm from his tenacious grip. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you dating my father," Draco quipped snidely, digging his nails into his palms.

"Oh," she replied with wide, dawning eyes.

"Yes, _oh_."

"We're not dating, really," Ginny weakly explained, nervously rubbing her hands together. "He just asked me to go with him to Hogsmeade this weekend."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And you said _yes_?"

"Why wouldn't I say yes?" Ginny was beginning to get immensely annoyed with the older blond.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my _father_!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Say_no_, for starters—" Draco began listing with his fingers "—keep away from him, stop being a tart—"

—Slap—

Draco's eyes widened in shock; he raised a hand to his red-marked cheek. "You bitc—"

—Zap—

Her wand was now drawn and she had hit him with some kind of hex that he had never seen. It was as though a firecracker had been set off in front of his face. Her annoying brothers, the twins, had most likely invented the stupid spell.

"Weasley—" Draco withdrew his wand and growled "—you are going to pay for that!"

Before he could utter a spell, a powerful Impediment Curse knocked Draco to the ground.

"You will leave Mademoiselle Belette alone, Unglaub," Lucius said with a snarl, pointing his wand at Draco. "I have tolerated your presence in this school because you have been cordial and unassuming. But you crossed the line today by trying to attack Geneviève." He glared down at the blond. "You will apologise to her."

Draco jumped to his feet. "I will not!" He was thoroughly humiliated, but he would not cow to this younger version of his father.

"Then I am afraid that you have made yourself a powerful enemy, Unglaub," Lucius stated with unmistakeable venom in his voice.

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "So be it, _Malfoy_."

Lucius nodded curtly and warily sheathed his wand as he took Ginny's hand, guiding her back down towards the Slytherin dormitories. She glanced over her shoulder at Draco, her eyes widened with worry and fright. Draco watched her go and then started to wipe the dust off his trousers, glaring at anyone who dared to look at him. Unfortunately, Severus Snape dared, staring at Draco as if he were a right nutter.

"You know, the French girl isn't worth it," the younger Slytherin informed Draco rather condescendingly. "Lucius Malfoy gets what Lucius Malfoy wants."

Severus sneered at the blond and shook his head, finding it rather silly that these two older boys were fighting over a girl. They might not have said anything, but it only took someone with half a brain and a pair of working eyes to realise that almost any fight between two boys was over a girl—a troublesome girl.

Draco's eyes became mercury slits as he sized up the soon-to-be Potions master.

"_Langlock_!" He directed his wand at Severus, causing the younger Slytherin's tongue to glue to the roof of his mouth. "Fuck off, you greasy-haired git!"

With that, Draco stormed off, leaving a speechless Severus Snape behind. The Marauders, however, found it very entertaining—well, at least James and Sirius did, laughing heartily as Severus fumbled about for his want, trying to reverse spell non-verbally. Remus and Peter, on the other hand, remained silent. Suddenly Lily came running over to help out her best mate, telling the laughing Gryffindors to bugger off. The Marauders did just that and followed the thoroughly pissed off German bloke, whose robes were billowing quite dramatically as he made his way towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"He's not so bad," James said almost reluctantly, still laughing at the spell that Draco had performed on the ordinarily self-righteous Slytherin.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, slowly. "He stood up to Malfoy _and_ set Snape on his arse."

James laughed again. "I think he has potential."

"You think?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We just need to have him warm up to our way of thinking." James shrugged and looked back at Remus for support. "He is a rather good Quidditch player and quite smart too. An older bloke like him on our side might come in handy someday."

The other three Marauders nodded, thinking about it. Sirius, however, remained unconvinced. He didn't like the German all that much since he had hit him with that non-verbal spell on the first day of school, but he had to admit that having a powerful wizard like that on their side would have its uses.

"I say we watch him a bit more time," Sirius said with a mischievous grin surfacing on his lips. "And if he's up to snuff, we test him."

"Sounds good to me," James said, and then jogged up ahead to catch up with the exchange student. "Oi, German—er—Drago!"

Draco turned around and furrowed his brow. What did these clowns want now?

"Wanna come to Hogsmeade with us this weekend?" James asked in an abnormally friendly tone, as the other three boys caught up and gave Draco an encouraging nod.

"Sure, I guess," Draco replied after a moment's pause and then turned back around to keep on walking. He could go to Hogsmeade and spy on his father and the Weasley girl. It would stir less suspicion if he showed up with the witless quartet than if he went alone.

"Great. See you at practise tonight," James said half-heartedly at the blond's back, quickly sussing out that ingratiating himself with the German would be quite the challenge.

Back at the entrance to the Great Hall, Lily had managed to undo Draco's spell. Snape coughed and began to test out his vocal chords by cursing up a storm. Lily could only laugh, having never heard her friend swear so much.

"Sev, how do you always manage to get yourself into situations like these?"

"Luck," Severus responded dryly, holstering his wand as she helped him to his feet.

Lily laughed harder and playfully punched at the scowling boy's arm, eliciting the closest thing to a smile she would ever get from him. As they made to part ways to their respective dorms, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up expectantly.

"Hey, Sev, did you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

"Sure." He smiled and then immediately began to grimace. "Let's just hope that we can manage to stay clear of the Marauders, flying hexes, and bipolar exchange students with itchy wand fingers."

Lily laughed again. "Amen to that."

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** Obviously, I took some creative license by allowing Quidditch players to carry wands on the field until the mid-late 'Seventies. I just needed an excuse for a fight, to show feisty!Ginny. You may have also noticed that I inserted some Lily/Snape love. Deal with it! ^_~

Please forgive my broken English or awkward phrasing as literal translation from English to French (and vice versa) is next to impossible in most cases.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Langlock_ = Glues the victim's tongue to the roof of their mouth. Created by Severus Snape.

_Il avait la Snitch_ = He had the Snitch

_Vous avez triché!_ = You cheated!

_Tu est un cochon!_ = You are a pig!

_Du dreckiges Schlammblut_ = You filthy/dirty Mudblood (German)

*I did not have Ginny say _pardonnez-moi_ to James because she was not trying to be polite. You may notice that with James and Draco she will always use 'tu' over the more friendly and respectful 'vous'.

**Additional note (on translations):** In the French version of Harry Potter, different words/phrases are used for English terms. For example, the Snitch is actually referred to as _le Vif d'or_. Unfortunately, I am not angling for accuracy or flow in this story when it comes to French, so I apologise, in advance, to any French person reading this story. Both Ginny's English and French read awkward since she is literally translating. That is why Ginny would still call the Snitch the 'Snitch' as opposed to 'le Vif d'or'. I do hope you understand.


	5. We All Have Issues

**Chapter 5 – We All Have Issues—Yours Are Just More Scarring Than Most**

The trip to Hogsmeade was magical, and not in the tongue-in-cheek kind of way. For Ginny, it was the epitome of a perfect first date. She had never experienced anything like it, nor had she ever been with anyone like Lucius. He was the picture of charm and class—the perfect gentleman.

Lucius showed up to her room with a bouquet of white roses, which he suggested complimented her complexion. Ginny, in turn, blushed and smiled, fumbling for the words to thank him. He then conjured an exquisite crystal vase and used his wand to fill it with water and placed the roses inside. Walking over to her armoire, he grabbed her short fur-lined cloak and held it out for her. Ginny slipped into the coat and felt his fingertips touch her bare neck and she shivered, feeling her skin instantly break out in goosebumps.

Ginny knew that it wasn't right for her to be on a date with Lucius. She could tell by the looks that the other girls gave her when she walked out of the school arm-in-arm with him. Narcissa had hid her feelings well, offering Ginny a small smile, but Ginny knew that the Slytherin girl was heartbroken. Narcissa didn't take her anger and feelings of betrayal out on Ginny because the taller blonde had dignity and class. Ginny, however, seemed to be lacking these two qualities as of late, for she found that she couldn't help but be selfish. She wanted—no, she needed—this magical moment, this perfect date.

Tomorrow, Ginny would break it off with Lucius. She would swallow her feelings and accept her fate. She wasn't meant to be in this time. She had come back to save Fred, but instead she had found Lucius. It wasn't right. None of it was. It was time for Ginny to grow up. But that was all for tomorrow. Today, she would be Geneviève Belette from Beauxbatons; today, she would happily live the lie.

It was a relatively cool mid-October weekend, so Lucius took it upon himself to stand close to her while they walked. He would rub her arms and hands, ensuring that she was warm. Ginny couldn't stop herself from blushing the entire way there. They stopped to Honeydukes, where he bought her a copious amount of sweets and chocolates. After gorging themselves with the sinful delectables, they went window-shopping and frolicked in the seldom-used playground just on the outskirts of town. She giggled with delight as he pushed her on the swings and raced her to the slides. It was hard to imagine that this loveable, carefree boy would become a cold, heartless Death Eater—a man who would later give her a cursed diary that would forever change her life.

They finally made their way to The Three Broomsticks; their cheeks were rosy with the cold and physical exertion. Lucius took her cloak and directed her towards a cosy booth in the corner. He ordered her a Cabernet Sauvignon and tipped the waiter, who gave them both a knowing wink. Ginny, being of age, took a sip and made a face, sticking her red tongue out in disgust. Lucius laughed and took a hearty drink from his glass of scotch.

"It's an acquired taste," he said after he finished swallowing, setting down the tumbler. "I realise the swill here is not as good as it is in the south of France. Cabernets must have been baby's milk to you."

She smiled and took another sip and then shook her head. "Nev-air I drink such large e-mount," she replied in horrible English and set down her wine glass.

"Pas de problem, ma chère," he said and gave her another one of his inviting smiles as he signalled the waiter. "Could I have a large hot cocoa with extra whipped cream for the lovely mademoiselle here?"

The waiter nodded and went back to retrieve her drink. Ginny pushed the red wine aside and took the cocoa that the waiter brought back to her, sipping happily. She thanked Lucius, who merely shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.

"Anything for my Geneviève." His grey eyes sparkled in the light, and Ginny's heart fluttered. She had found herself falling for Lucius Malfoy. She couldn't help it.

"C'mon, Drago, let's have a drink."

Ginny turned to see James and Draco enter the pub. The younger Gryffindor was patting the unamused blond on the back, ushering him towards an empty table at the back. The rest of the Marauders were in tow, looking as mischievous as ever. She smiled. Apparently Draco _could_ make friends, and with Gryffindors to boot. She was happy to see him out and about. Ginny was beginning to think that she was the only one having a fun time in this time period.

"Now he has sunk even lower," Lucius stated with disgust, causing Ginny to turn back.

"Pardonnez-moi?" she asked.

"Unglaub." Lucius pointed to Draco and the Marauders with the tumbler of scotch in his hand. "Now he is making friends with fifth-years—_those_ fifth-years."

Ginny frowned. She knew that house rivalries had existed since Hogwarts was built. She, too, had been guilty of such prejudices, but she couldn't see why Draco should be condemned for hanging out with his own housemates.

"But zay arr ... frenz of same owse, non? What iz wrong wif zat?"

"I'm not saying that housemates can't be friends. I'm saying _he_ should know better," Lucius explained, glaring over at the blond before he took another swig from his drink.

"Drago?" She glanced back at Draco and turned to face Lucius. He was levelling a menacing look at her, causing her to instantly recoil.

"I'm sorry, Geneviève," Lucius apologised, seeing her reaction. His steel-grey eyes suddenly lightened. "I should explain."

Ginny frowned.

"_Unglaub_ is an alias," Lucius informed, letting out an undignified grunt as he drained the contents of his glass.

Ginny's eyes momentarily widened. Did he know about her and Draco—that they weren't who they pretended to be? She swallowed nervously.

"Zorry?"

"_Unglaub_ is German for _without faith_," Lucius clarified, signalling the waiter to bring him another tumbler of scotch. "Do you know the origin of the Malfoy name, Geneviève?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "It is archaic French for _bad faith_."

Ginny pursed her lips together and frowned, unsure of what he was driving at. Lucius looked past her to stare at Draco, unwilling to finish his explanation until he had another drink. The waiter brought him his scotch, and the long-haired blond took a sip this time, hissing through his teeth.

"My father attended school at Durmstrang," Lucius began, and Ginny's mouth dropped open. "Before he succumbed to Dragon Pox, he confessed to my mother that he had been unfaithful." He looked down at the tumbler in his hand, swirling the contents of the golden liquor in the glass. "He had a mistress, a childhood friend from school. She was with child a year before I was born."

Ginny closed her mouth and followed Lucius's contemptuous gaze, which was directed squarely at Draco.

"It's obvious to anyone with eyesight that that German is the spitting image of me. He's my father's bastard child!" Lucius spat, bringing the tumbler to his lips and draining the entire glass in one large gulp.

When he set the empty glass back onto the table, Ginny reached over and put her small hand on his. He looked up, bewildered.

"Let us go now, Lucius," she said, smiling softly. "I do not want you to be sad anymore."

Lucius lowered his eyes and shook his head, letting out a short laugh. He then glanced back up at her with all traces of his former melancholy gone; instead, a roguish grin danced on his lips.

"Geneviève, how could I be sad when I am with you?"

**-x-**

The Marauders had accosted Draco as soon as the bell tolled. They seemed intent on making friends with him. The idea of being mates with these dunderheads made Draco shudder with disgust; however, now that he had made an enemy of his father, he figured having these blokes around wouldn't be entirely useless. Five against one _were_ odds in his favour.

Draco begrudgingly followed them as they took off about the town, going into every shop, pilfering sweets and whatnots. He hung outside for the most part, keeping an eye out for Weasley and his father. He wasn't sure why he was doing this. It wasn't like he could approach them if he saw them. His father now considered him an adversary, and the girl would never rise to defend him. He guessed that he just needed to know what was going on, to find out if they were really dating. He figured his father just wanted to have a go with a 'French' girl. He obviously couldn't tell that Weasley was some common witch with no wealth or class. The dodgy, old headmaster was quite clever in giving her a French accent, distracting anyone from her English one—an automatic indicator of education and social standing. Weasley had no clue that his father just wanted the rough and tumble with a beautiful girl.

Draco inwardly winced. He had just admitted that he found the Weasley girl to be attractive. He had never really seen it before. He only saw someone who was a traitor to her blood, poor, and pathetically infatuated with Harry Potter. What more was there for him to see? Sure, she was feisty, athletic, and talented, but did his father see these things? No. He saw an exotic doll locked inside a glass case—a case that he desperately wanted to open.

Draco shook his head and let out a disgruntled sigh. At that moment he glanced up to see his mother and her girlfriends enter The Three Broomsticks. A minute later, his father and the Weasley girl walked in too. Just then, James and crew came out of the shop and jabbed Draco in the ribs.

"What do you want to do now, Drago?" James asked.

Draco tried his best to offer a friendly smile. "Shall we get a drink?"

Sirius uncharacteristically beamed at Draco and patted him on the shoulder, which caused the blond to stumble forward.

"Sounds good, German. First round's on you," Sirius said with a wink as they took off ahead of him.

Draco muttered a few obscenities under his breath before finally catching up with them. The moment they walked in the door he saw his father and the Weasley girl sitting at a booth; his mother and her friends were on the other side of the room. He could see his mother staring at his father, frowning almost imperceptibly at him.

The Marauders pushed Draco towards a table near where Narcissa sat. They all took their seats and began ordering drinks. When Draco finally got his, he glanced over to where Lucius sat and noticed that his father was glaring at him. After what appeared to be a serious discussion between the two love-birds, the Weasley girl put her hand on his father's and Draco felt the urge to stand up. Instead, he remained seated and watched as the two got up to leave. He turned back to his own table and scowled.

Where were they going?

"You okay, Drago?" Remus asked quietly, and Draco glared up at the younger boy and nodded.

"Let's order more drinks!"

Draco turned around to see his mother impatiently waving her hand in the air to signal the waiter. It wasn't like his mother to act this way.

"I feel like getting right smashed," she announced, already sounding tipsy.

No, this most definitely was not like his mother. She was obviously upset because his father was dating the new 'exchange student'. This simply would not do. His mother and father had to be together: his life depended on it.

**-x-**

Lucius escorted Ginny back to her room, helping her off with her cloak. She invited him to stay for tea, and he accepted. She then conjured a tea set and poured him a cup. They sat in front of the fireplace and talked. Well, he talked; she listened. They were both sitting on the sofa when Lucius decided to lay his head on Ginny's lap. She stroked his long, soft hair, and he smiled up at her; his cheeks were rosy from the scotch.

"Tell me a story _en français_, Geneviève," he asked sweetly and somewhat sleepily.

She tried to think of a story that a French girl would know, but nothing came to mind. She searched the recesses of her brain, trying to recall any poem or story that she had ever memorised. _The Lady of Shalott_ entered her conscious thoughts, and she began to recite the poem, stanza by stanza. She told of how the Lady of Shalott was a cursed woman who was forced to constantly weave a magic web that prevented her from looking directly out at the world. Instead, she had to look in a mirror, which reflected the people who came to and from Camelot.

One day the bold Sir Lancelot rode by on his horse, and the Lady could not help but look upon him directly, without the mirror. Alas, the mirror then broke and the curse took hold of her. She left her island castle on a boat engraved with her name, and the Lady then sent herself down the river towards Camelot. But before she could reach the palace, she died. Amongst the knights and women who found her was Sir Lancelot, who complimented her beauty and prayed to God to lend her grace, the Lady of Shalott.

"That was beautiful," Lucius said when she finished, bringing his fingers to her cheek.

Ginny blushed and began to play with his hair, massaging his scalp. Lucius closed his eyes and smiled, seeming to purr at her touch. She began to rub his temples, pushing his long blond hair away from his face, fanning it onto her lap. Her ministrations caused him to let out a content sigh, turning his head so that she could attend to his neck. Her fingers began to lower past the collar of his shirt, dipping down to caress his collarbone. His pewter-coloured eyes suddenly opened and he grabbed her wrist firmly yet gently, looking up at her with unrestrained lust.

He pulled her down with one hand while his other held the back of her head, bringing her lips down to his. From the angle she was at, her mouth upside down to his, she had assumed that the kiss would be awkward. She assumed wrong. It was hot and passionate, filled with unbridled emotion. She could not help but moan into his mouth as she felt his tongue slip inside, dancing along hers. She had never felt this kind of passion with any boy before, including Harry.

Ginny suddenly drew back. She couldn't be kissing Lucius. She was dating Harry, and Lucius was supposed to be dating Narcissa. This was wrong.

Lucius sat up, reaching out to take her hand. "Are you okay, Geneviève?"

She nodded feebly. "Zis iz all so fast," Ginny admitted, biting down on her tender bottom lip.

Lucius lifted her chin, and she tried to smile; instead, she took in a great gasp of air as her green eyes met his grey. His look was intense and passionate. His half-lidded eyes made her weak with desire. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, to protest their relationship, when his lips came crashing down on hers once more and she gave in with a moan.

His lips were so warm and soft, entreating her to deepen the kiss. His large hands roamed her waist and pulled her closer, her legs resting on his lap. He released her lips, breathing heavily, and titled her head back, stealing kisses down her neck and nipping at her sensitive flesh with his teeth. She reluctantly pushed him back. He gazed down at her, his eyes smouldering with lust. His mouth was open and, if she wasn't mistaken, he was panting.

"I-I cannot," she said with her palms flat against his broad chest, keeping him at arm's length. She expected him to argue and say that she was ready—that she was just scared—but he didn't.

He slowly licked his lips. "Je m'excuse, Geneviève," Lucius apologised huskily, and Ginny found herself melting all over again.

No. She had to maintain her resolve. Draco would kill her if he found out that she had been snogging his father. She frowned. Why was she thinking about Draco Malfoy right now?

Lucius untangled himself from her and stood up. Straightened his clothes, he retrieved his cloak from the desk chair. Ginny wondered if he was mad at her, but when he leaned down and kissed her fully but quickly on the lips, affectionately rubbing his thumb along her jaw, she knew that he wasn't. He looked down into her eyes more adoringly than he had before, and she felt her heart swell to twice its size.

After she showed him out, Ginny leaned her back against the door and rested her head against the cold wooden surface. She knew that tomorrow she would have to tell Lucius that it was over. She couldn't play with his life or Draco's. Lucius was meant to be with Narcissa, not with her. While she found herself caring deeply for the handsome Slytherin, she could not let her selfish wants and needs come ahead of what was meant to be. Her original intent for using the Time-Turner had been to right a wrong of the past, to make her family happy. This—what she was doing now—was not right. It didn't make anyone happy but herself. And what would she do when she went back to her time? It was an impossible dream; one that she would have to forget entirely.

**-x-**

Draco finished his drink and decided that the trip was a bust. All he had discovered was that his father appeared to be infatuated with the Weasley girl, and his mother was heartbroken. He would have to talk to 'Geneviève' about this in the morning.

The Marauders followed him outside and began to playfully push each other around. Draco walked ahead with his hands in his pockets. He decided to ignore their antics and think of something else, like how he was going convince the Weasley girl to stop seeing his father—well, how to convince her without using force or verbal threats. He supposed that he could approach her from a _friendlier_ angle. In order to do this, though, he'd have to stop calling her 'Weasley' all the time.

He frowned and tried to remember what her actual name was. The English version of Geneviève was Guinevere or Ginevra. He recalled that the Boy Weasel would often call her Ginny, so Ginevra must have been her actual name. He was sure that she had most likely mentioned it in his presence whilst conversing with Dumbledore, but he hadn't paid attention. Draco supposed he could call her Ginevra; he certainly wasn't going to call her 'Ginny'.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Why the bloody hell was he thinking about her to begin with? Why had he dedicated brain cell activity to try to process the etymology of her name? The alcohol must have addled his brain. Yes, that must have been it.

"Hey, Drago, what's Durmstrang like?" Sirius suddenly asked out of nowhere, and Draco turned around.

They had somehow come upon the Shrieking Shack. Well, he was in lead, so he must have led them there.

"It's cold," Draco replied curtly. He didn't know where Durmstrang was exactly. Sweden or Norway—possibly Germany.

"Well, that's descriptive," James retorted with a laugh, obviously a little intoxicated.

"We should head back to the school," Remus warned, cautiously eyeing the Whomping Willow near the shack.

Draco followed his gaze and saw a group of girls stumble around from the other side of the gate, heading towards the tree. It was his mother, Narcissa, and her housemates Violet Harrington, Elisabeth Travis, and Mary Parkinson. They all looked drunk.

"Blimey, Cissa's smashed," Sirius said, shaking his head in disgust.

Draco took a step forward, and Sirius reached out with a hand to stop him. Draco turned to glare at the dark-haired boy, who only scowled right back.

"Don't bother, German. You don't want to cross paths with my cousin and her mates when she's drunk." He turned to look at Narcissa with dark eyes. "I'm not exactly a favourite in her books, but I don't like seeing her like this. The best course of action for everyone involved is to just let her walk it off."

Draco's scowl lightened as he noted that Sirius did not look disgusted because he hated Narcissa; he looked empathetic.

"I just want to see if she's okay," Draco said, lightly shaking Sirius's hand off his shoulder.

Sirius frowned pensively but nodded.

"Let's go," Remus suggested more forcefully to the other Marauders, and they all turned around to head back to the castle.

Sirius looked back and watched the German walk over to Narcissa.

"Shouldn't we have maybe helped?" James asked, and Sirius shook his head.

"No, me being there would have only made matters worse." Sirius let out a protracted sigh. "Cissa and I used to be close when we were younger. She used to spoil Regulus like he was her baby brother, but ever since I was disowned ..." He paused. "Let's just say that Blacks don't easily forgive or forget."

James nodded in understanding and patted his best mate's back. "You think he'll survive your cousin?" he asked, referring to the exchange student.

Sirius laughed. "If he does, he'll have proven himself a brave Gryffindor."

Draco turned back and watched the Marauders leave. He then steeled his resolve to go speak with his mother. He could tell from her stance and how she waved her arms about in the air that she was drunk. He had never seen his mother intoxicated. She was always the picture of calm collectivity and decorum. Some might have considered her haughty and cold, but she had her warm side. She doted on Draco and his father, loved them both and even coddled Draco to the point of annoyance. This girl before him, acting like a teenager, was a side he had never seen before. Of course, he knew that people changed—they matured—but this version of his mother bothered the hell out of him.

"Well, if it isn't the German Gryffindor," Narcissa announced with a bottle in hand, raising it in the air to greet the approaching blond. Where she had acquired bottled alcohol, he did not know. She looked wasted.

"Hello, Narcissa," he greeted back, finding it awkward and uncomfortable to not address her as 'Mother'.

"_Narcissa_, is it?" She frowned deeply and raised a blonde eyebrow in disdain. "You're quite brave—or is it foolish?—to be so bold as to address me by my given name without permission."

"I beg your forgiveness, Miss Black," Draco entreated with a formal bow, and Narcissa's frown morphed into a sneer.

"Sod off, Durmstrang boy," she slurred, and took another sip from her bottle.

Draco's mouth dropped open. Did his mother just curse at him? Never in his life had he ever heard her use the term 'sod'.

The other three girls tittered, obviously drunk themselves.

"Yeah, Gryffindor. Get lost!" Violet shouted, snickering loudly.

Draco watched in horror as his mother began to stumble back towards the Whomping Willow.

"Mu—Miss Black, please. Get away from the tree," he half-begged, half-ordered.

"I will do what I bloody well want, ya tosser!" Narcissa snorted rather unladylike and took another swig, stumbling back even closer to the threatening branches.

She finally backed her way into the path of the Whomping Willow, and Draco instantly withdrew his wand and tried to immobilise the massive swinging branches; but either the tree was too powerful or Draco needed to work on his pronunciation, for the spell missed. Draco then ran with lightning speed to where his mother stood, about to be impaled. Narcissa turned around and let out a short screech that was cut off by Draco tackling her at the waist. They both rolled across the ground, just barely missing the swinging arm of the branch. Draco rested his forearms on the ground beside her head and looked down at her. Her blue eyes were wide and watery, staring up at him with awe and rapture.

"You saved me," she whispered, bringing a hand up to his cheek to caress it.

"U-Uh," Draco stuttered, unable to reply or move.

His mother was staring up at him with a look that he had seen many times, especially from Pansy Parkinson. He only prayed to Merlin that it was the alcohol talking, but when she raised herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him, Draco's worst fears were realised.

Quickly untangling himself from his mother, Draco jumped up and looked down at Narcissa in shock. He stuttered an apology and promptly took off in the direction of the castle, sprinting with the speed of a Muggle Olympic runner.

His mother had kissed him—on the lips!

Draco swore to every god he could think of; he cursed his father, the Sorting Hat, the Time-Turner, and especially Ginevra Weasley. When he got back to his time he would be in need of some serious psychological counselling. Right now he would have to settle for a scalding hot shower and possibly some manly crying. All he could do now was crawl into his bed and never emerge again until Dumbledore came to tell him that he could finally return home and leave this madness.

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** Poor Draco. Poor Draco for oh-so-many reasons. I could have made this chapter a lot more awkward than it was, but I decided to save that for the following chapters. You're welcome. ^_~

_Pas de problem_ – Correctly, this would be phrased as '_ne pas de problem_', but Lucius is obviously comfortable enough with French that he can use a more colloquial type of phrasing. If he were really comfortable though, he would just shrug his shoulders and say '_pas_'.

_The Lady of Shalott_ is a poem written by Lord Alfred Tennyson, who, incidentally, wrote several pieces about Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere.


	6. Not Ready To Make Nice

**Chapter 6 – Not Ready To Make Nice (Or I'd Slap You If My Arm Wasn't In This Sling)**

"Miss Weasley, Mister Malfoy—how are you both this fine evening?" Professor Dumbledore greeted Draco and Ginny with his customary formality. He peered above his half-moon spectacles, carefully regarding the two wayward time travellers sitting in front of him.

Ginny smiled wearily at the headmaster, having had many meetings with the wizard over the past two-and-a-half months. They hadn't got any closer to figuring out how to get back to their own time, and she was worried that this meeting would yield the same result as the previous ones: nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco shift uncomfortably in his chair. He looked sullen and petulant, which was not much different from how he normally looked. His body, on the other hand, had changed quite a bit. While he was still slender and tall, his leanness was less apparent as the sinew on his arms, legs, and chest had become much more pronounced. She had not observed these subtle changes on the Quidditch pitch, however, forced to sit beside him in confined quarters had made it impossible for her to not notice his brazenly displayed brawn. He was beginning to look increasingly like his father every day. Although Lucius had more of a leonine look to him, Draco was considerably less aquiline and far more lithesome.

"Peachy," Draco drawled facetiously, and Ginny jumped in her seat. She had not expected him to answer the headmaster.

"Y-yes. I'm doing well, too," she added, and both Draco and Dumbledore turned to look at her askance.

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and gave Ginny a smile and a wink. "That's good to hear."

Draco didn't seem to appreciate the exchange of salutations, and he crossed his arms over his now-broad chest in disgust, breathing out heavily through his nostrils.

"Enough with the forced exchange of pleasantries!" he snapped, looking directly at the headmaster. "I am not fine or well or _peachy_." Draco glanced momentarily in Ginny's direction before turning his attention back to Dumbledore. "Please tell me that you have made some progress."

Dumbledore raised a bushy white eyebrow and smiled. It was a sly sort of smile, very deceptive.

"A man who likes to get to the crux of the matter—" he tented his fingers "—I do appreciate that quality in a person. But, young Draco, when you get to be as old as I you come to learn that part of the joy in discovery is found in the journey itself." The headmaster lowered his hands and directed a much sterner look Draco's way. "So why don't you humour an old man and let me reveal what is to be told in my own way."

Ginny was slightly taken aback by the sinister and foul mood that seemed to perambulate about the room. She warily glanced over at Draco to see him somewhat recoil at the headmaster's tone. After a moment's pause, the fair-haired boy finally relented and muttered "Fine" under his breath.

"Excellent." Dumbledore countenance suddenly brightened.

Ginny swallowed nervously and brushed back her long hair. The tension between the older and younger wizard had lessened, but she wished that the headmaster would just get on with it so that she could leave the stuffy confines of his office and go outside for a nice, relaxing broom ride. There was so much pent-up hostility in the room—and in the school since she and Draco had arrived. It was unnatural. They were not supposed to be here. Ginny was worried that Draco would eventually snap—or she would.

"I was able to research this particular Time-Turner and discover that it is an experimental one from your time," Dumbledore announced, cutting of Draco's inevitable snarky retort with a slight raise of his withered hand. "While the wizard or witch who worked on this may be alive during this time period, we cannot hope to seek out his or her aid on this matter."

Draco and Ginny's faces fell. It would obviously interrupt the space-time continuum if they sought outside aid and thus inadvertently change the future course of events and history as they knew it (Ginny had learnt of this concept in another moo-vee about a space canoe—or was it a toboggan?). You simply could not mess with time.

"However—" Dumbledore offered them a hopeful smile as he raised his index finger "—he or she apparently studied the work of Burgstrom as the dial system is somewhat parallel to Alfred Burgstrom's Location Clocks and Pocket Watches."

Draco huffed in angry confusion. How was he supposed to know what any of this meant? He glanced over at Ginny, who merely shrugged, unsure of what the headmaster was angling at.

"He made clocks that you could bewitch to show where certain people were at any point in time. He also had a few timepieces and other experiments that could predict where the tracked person would show up next, before he or she even left or arrived. Rather ingenious, really. Most of his creations were passed down in the Burgstrom family."

"The family clock," Ginny muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What is that, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward to listen intently.

"My family has a clock that shows where every member of our house is—if we are at work, school, or in mortal peril." She cleared her throat and grinned somewhat sheepishly at the last item listed.

"That might have been one of his creations," Dumbledore said with a nod. "He was famous for his Detectors; however, his experiments were not limited to the present. Many of his theories devices dealt with the mechanics of prediction and future time travel. In fact, he is rather well-known in the wizarding academic circle for his theories on Prediction and Future Time."

"What does any of this have to do with the Time-Turner?" Draco asked, seeming not very keen on the clock conversation.

"Well, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore began with a twinkle in his eyes, "it tells us that your Time-Turner uses Burgstrom's Theory and does, in fact, go forward in time—into the future."

"Oh, well that is a relief!" Ginny sat up in her chair and clasped her hands together in glee.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, his smile widening at the petite blonde's exuberance.

Draco did not look nearly as excited. "But have you figured out how to send us back—to the future?" It was all fine and good to discover that the device could go into the future, but could the headmaster actually figure out a way to send them there?

"I need to locate and study Burgstrom's notes as well as all research done on Time-Turners and time travelling in general," Dumbledore explained. "It will take another month, at the very least, to discover the right spell and to do some testing."

"Testing?" Ginny furrowed her brow in confusion as Draco's eyes darted about the room, looking somewhat apprehensive.

"Not on you, my dear," Dumbledore reassured her with a good-natured wink, and Ginny's frown vanished.

"Then how?" Draco was sceptical. He wasn't as trusting and optimistic as Ginny.

"There are ways to test without having to use a human subject," Dumbledore replied ominously, staring Draco down as if he knew something—something that he had read in the blond's mind.

Draco swallowed hard and looked away, failing to meet the headmaster's gaze.

Ginny cleared her throat and tried to laugh, bringing her hands together for a weak clap. "Alright then," she said with feigned enthusiasm. "Only another month left to go. Brilliant."

**-x-**

Determined to relieve his stress, Draco went to the Quidditch pitch and took to the air with his broom. The afternoon meeting with Dumbledore had unnerved him. He could swear that the dodgy, old wizard had used Legilimency on him. There was the briefest sensation of something tugging at the back of his mind. Had the headmaster read his thoughts at the mention of 'testing'? Draco had spent his entire sixth year testing out the Vanishing Cabinet—to the point where he had almost gone mental. He had done things that he would have liked to forget. Unfortunately, the meeting today brought it all back to the forefront.

As he secured the clip of his riding cloak about his neck, he looked up to see two figures flying in the air near the stadium. His eyes narrowed on the pair of blonds who were racing around the pitch. One of them was his father and the other sure as hell wasn't his mother. Apparently Lucius was teaching Ginevra Weasley how to fly. He was demonstrating barrel rolls, corkscrews, diving, and other techniques that Lucius had taught Draco when he was young.

Draco wasn't sure if he was jealous that his father was instructing the Weasley girl or that he was envious that Lucius could unabashedly put his hands all over the petite girl. No, not that. He was simply jealous that Ginny had his father's attention while he did not. He wasn't envious of Lucius. It wasn't like Draco wanted to spend time with the She-Weasel. No, no. It was Single-Child Syndrome. Yes, that had to be it.

As much as he wanted to convince himself of this, he couldn't explain why he found himself charging out onto the field where they were flying. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say or do, just that he _was_ going to say or do something. He figured the words, coupled with the appropriate actions, would strike him when the time was right.

"Teaching a 'weasel' how to fly, eh, Malfoy?" Draco asked, yelling up into the air and glaring directly at Lucius.

Okay, so maybe he had chosen the wrong words.

Draco could see the subtle, almost imperceptible change in his father's countenance. He had tried to look inscrutable and calm, but Draco knew his father well. Lucius was anything but placid right now. He was positively livid.

_You just picked a fight with your father_, Draco's mind warned, but he didn't care.

He mounted his broom and took off into the sky, buzzing silently and effortlessly past Ginny, who looked confused, angry, and a tad worried. He settled a few feet away from them and just hovered, staring at his father and almost willing him to fight. He knew that Lucius would be armed and would play dirty. He counted on these two facts. Draco wanted to fight. He needed to.

"This is a dangerous game you are playing, Unglaub—"

"Call me Drago, Malfoy," Draco interrupted Lucius with a growl. He simply hated his German surname. He would rather his father call him by a name similar to his given one. "You spit out my last name with far too much disdain."

"Why, should I be saying it with reverence?" Lucius countered, riding up beside his current arch nemesis.

"Isn't that how the Weasel addresses you?" Draco remarked flippantly.

"Watch what you call her," Lucius warned with an evil glint in his mercury-coloured eyes.

"_Belette_ is French for _weasel_," Draco stated in a condescending tone, staring down his nose at his father, which infuriated Lucius to no end. "Would you call a rose by any other name?"

"_Draco_!" Ginny hissed, which caused him to turn and scowl in her direction. "What are you doing?"

Draco scoffed at her, and his eyes darkened to a steel-grey. "I could ask you the same, _Ginevra_."

Ginny's eyes widened. She had forgot to call Draco by his German name. Lucius was looking sidelong at her with a suspicious expression on his face.

"What is this?" Lucius asked slowly, looking back and forth from Ginny to Draco.

"N-nothing," she replied quickly and timidly, averting his gaze.

Draco watched the ex-Gryffindor turn her head and blush, unable to look his father in the eye. He grinned rather evilly, enjoying the fact that everything wasn't so perfect in their little glasshouse—content that he had thrown a stone at it, even if it was only a pebble.

"Ungl—Drago, I suggest we have a talk," Lucius stated more so than suggested, noting the way that the German bloke looked at Geneviève and not liking it one bit.

"Fine," Draco responded tersely, and both boys took off on their brooms, ascending towards the clouds.

"You fancy her!" Lucius accused once he and Draco finally had flown out of earshot.

"What?" Draco was flabbergasted.

Lucius growled and narrowed his eyes on the boy who could have been his twin. "You heard me."

"Yes," Draco admitted, shaking his head, "and I'm still trying to figure out how you came to such a preposterous conclusion."

Lucius tightly gripped the neck of his broom, seeming as though he were trying his hardest not to whip out his wand and hex this doppelgänger right in front of him.

"Do not take that tone with me!" Lucius threatened, and Draco rolled his eyes at how much this seventeen-year-old in front of him truly did remind him of his father. "You cannot fool me, _Unglaub_."

Draco openly guffawed and leaned forward on his broom. "I can't, can I?" he asked mockingly. "Drat. That's a real shame now, isn't it?"

Lucius bristled at Draco's tone. "I know who you are," he stated quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do not think for one second that you have a right to any title lest 'bastard'." He narrowed his pewter-coloured eyes. "I will not have you usurp my inheritance or position as the only heir."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "What?" He hadn't the foggiest idea about what his father was whinging on about.

"Go ahead, Drago, act dumb." Lucius flipped his long hair back in a lordly manner. "You are rather good at it."

All guesses at what Lucius was talking about earlier slipped Draco's mind entirely—thrown right out the window. He knew that this broad and domineering boy in front of him was his father, but he was also an arrogant git who didn't know when to keep his big gob shut.

"Whatever, Malfoy!" Draco spat with contempt, wanting to knock the haughty expression off Lucius's face with his fist.

Lucius then turned his broom around so that he had to look back over his shoulder at Draco, shooting him an ugly sneer. "Do not think that you have a chance with Geneviève either," he warned with an overt display of testosterone.

It was then that Draco felt something inside him snap. "What makes you think that you have a chance with her, you randy, old—"

Just as suddenly as the heat and energy had flooded inside him, the light in his eyes had gone out; Draco Malfoy fell unconscious, plummeting to the ground at dangerous speeds.

**-x-**

Draco's eyes began to languidly flutter open, trying to adjust to the harsh white lights that assailed his greyed and haze-filled vision. He smacked his lips distastefully and tried to make a sound but found that his vocal chords refused to cooperate. Instead, he turned his head to the right and saw the remnants of his practice broom left in a heap on a white, sterilised table beside him. He supposed that he would have to ask Dumbledore for a new one.

He turned to look up at the ceiling and noted the familiar patterns in the moulding and on the walls as he let his eyes roam over the expanse of the vaguely familiar room. The bed he was lying on was dreadfully hard and uncomfortable, so he rolled over onto his left side. He felt a sudden and sharp pain shoot up his ribs and he involuntarily let out a gasp of pain. It felt like every single one of his bones had been broken, and now he most assuredly knew where he was: the infirmary.

He winced in pain and glanced over at the other bed, spotting two big, almond-shaped eyes staring directly at him. He swallowed hard and then scowled.

"Weasley," he croaked, noting the petite blonde nestled in the bed next to his.

She looked rather worse for the wear, but her eyes had not lost their spark, their soulfulness. (Oh, bloody hell. What was wrong with him? He was waxing prose about the She-Weasel's eyes).

"What happened?" he asked, clearing his throat as he tried to sit up. It was an impossible task.

"You fell," Ginny answered bluntly, also trying to sit up.

They were both bandaged to their waists, obviously having broken numerous bones. He supposed that they both had a healthy dose of Skele-Gro in and on them. It was painful and itchy as hell.

"Yes, I gathered as much from the splintered broom and the fact that I am lying prostrate on a hospital bed," Draco rejoined facetiously, and Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "How did you manage to land in the infirmary with me?"

The annoyed expression on her face quickly vanished and was replaced with a sheepish half-grin. "I, uh, tried to break your fall."

"You what?" He furrowed his brow in confusion. If she broke his fall, she would have been a pancake.

"I didn't have my wand on me," Ginny explained, glancing down at her left arm that was in a sling, "so I just kind of rushed at you with my broom and tried to slow you down. But you were going too fast and you were too heavy—"

"I am not!" Draco cried in an admonishing tone, aghast that she would deem him leaden like some corpulent slob. "I'll have you know that I am the proper stone for my height." He sniffed disapprovingly.

Ginny took in a deep breath and sighed. "Well, falling at the rate you were, you weighed as much as a small elephant to me, Malfoy."

Draco brought a large palm up to his face and covered his eyes, letting out a long, laboured sigh. "So I suppose I am indebted to you now." He lowered his hand and adopted a terribly defeated and forlorn expression.

"It must be horrific," Ginny commented facetiously.

"Weasley, if you could only understand my pain," Draco stated a touch too dramatically.

"I think I can." She stretched out her back with a pained expression on her face, and then her eyes suddenly widened once she had caught onto Draco's slight. "Oh, you meant—" She turned to scowl up at the now-smirking blond. "Berk."

The corners of Draco's lips twitch into an almost imperceptible smile. "I suppose I should say 'thank you'," he said, knowing that the Weasley girl had probably saved his life.

"I suppose you should," she agreed, letting the ghost of a smile grace her rosebud lips.

Draco tilted his head to the side, and his grey eyes momentarily softened in the light that shone in through the window. Normally, being indebted to a Weasley would have brought shame and dishonour to his noble name but, for some reason, it didn't feel as globally devastating as he thought it would be.

He rolled over on his back and winced, feeling the pain shoot up his sides. As grateful as he may have been for the Weasley girl saving his life, he wasn't exactly ready to make friends and play nice. The 'thank-you' would have to wait—or never come at all.

**-x-**

Draco and Ginny were released from the infirmary after three days of intensive care. In that time, both Lucius and Narcissa had come to visit their wounded Slytherin princess. No one had come to visit Draco. Ginny, however, had noted how Cissa had also gone over to talk to Draco, staying by his bedside until visiting hours were over. She still came to visit Ginny as Narcissa considered the French girl her friend, but her focus remained solely on Draco. Lucius, on the other hand, tried to pretend that 'the German' didn't exist, and Ginny tried to pretend that Lucius wasn't the cause for Draco's fall.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ginny wasn't that stupid. She figured that something had happened between the two boys: Draco had most likely goaded Lucius and Lucius's first instinct was to hex. While Ginny knew that Draco was not faultless, she couldn't help but fully empathise with the former Slytherin. Draco may have been a bully in the past, but he had changed. Whether it was just this year or since his sixth, Draco was not the same boy he had once been. He had grown up; he had matured. Ginny had only begun to notice his subtle metamorphosis these past few months because of their trip back in time. Draco was still an arrogant, domineering prat, and she wasn't exactly itching at the opportunity to be his best mate, but Ginny also didn't think that he deserved to be hexed by Lucius, no matter what he had said.

When she had seen Draco fall off his broom, she reacted instinctively. She hadn't had her wand on her, which was stupid, so she used what she did have: her broom, her agility, her speed, and her body. She had almost properly caught him, but the boy had put on too much muscle over the past few months—that and the fact that while unconscious he was dead weight. It was impossible for her to right him on her broom; so they both ended up rocketing to the ground, breaking rubs and numerous other bones upon impact. Luckily, Lucius had transported them both to the infirmary, and they were immediately taken care of.

Ginny wished that the two obstinate Malfoys could just get over their stupid rivalry. It made perfect sense why they hated one another: they were essentially the same person. They were both so alike in looks and mannerisms that it wasn't difficult to understand why they were constantly at each other's throats. Perhaps if Draco had been sorted into Slytherin, they would have got along. However, if he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, she would have never noticed the subtle (and positive) changes in Draco's attitude and demeanour. Sure, he was still a bigoted git, but he appeared to have become a somewhat more tolerant git—and he seemed to have developed a sense of humour.

Draco also appeared to have quite the way with the ladies. Since they were both released from the hospital, all of the girls from every house had started to swoon over him, especially Narcissa. Ginny had thought it amusing at first, although she did feel bad for Draco (having his mother crush on him), but this amusement quickly turned into annoyance. Did _all_ the girls really need to fawn over him? He fell off his broom. Since when was that sexy?

Maybe it was more so the fact that he was now Lucius Malfoy's chief rival and that made him a hero to all other houses. Even some of the Slytherin girls liked him too (see the Narcissa reference above). He had become a sort of rebel, a renegade. All the female attention he received, however, had made Ginny want to vomit. It wasn't that she was jealous. No, no. She was just a liberal witch, and she found the idea of witches wantonly throwing themselves at a wizard's feet to be disgusting and demeaning. Yes, that was it. It was a matter of gender politics.

It was with these lingering and pestering thoughts of Draco Malfoy plaguing her mind that Ginny became distracted with what she was doing and, consequentially, bumped into a ladder in the middle of the hallway.

"Worch it!" a crabby voice called out.

Ginny dropped her textbooks and began to rub at her sore forehead. "Je m'excuse," she muttered, bending down to pick up her books.

The owner of the crabby voice reached out with gnarled and calloused hands and began to help her retrieve her fallen items.

"Yeh should worch where yer goin'," the man said with a little less disdain in his voice this time.

Ginny glanced up to see Argus Filch helping her collect her books off the floor. Her eyes widened momentarily at the caretaker's uncommon act of kindness, and she offered him another apology.

"It's okay." He waved his hand, looking somewhat bashful.

They both stood up, and Ginny glanced at the ladder. "You are play-sing pic-tour frems on zee wall?" she asked with her awkward French accent, remembering to try to speak properly so that Filch could understand her.

"Yeah, the Ministers for Magic pictures," he answered, pointing up at the numerous other frames that adorned the wall.

Ginny remembered that Filch used to clean these picture frames all the time, almost religiously, and hung them on the wall just outside the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. The petite witch had wondered why he took such care with the pictures. She knew that he was a competent caretaker and made sure that everything was kept in order, but he seemed to hold a sort of reverence for the stupid frames.

"Why you care so much for zeez?" she asked in broken English, motioning to the picture frames with a slender arm.

Filch took in a deep breath, pausing to collect his thoughts before answering, "I always wanted to be the Minister for Magic." He glanced up at one of the frames and smiled wistfully.

"But, you are a—"

"Squib! I know!" he barked, the dreamy look wiped from his face.

"J-je m'excuse," Ginny began, waving her hands frantically in front of her face. "Je n'ai pas voulu vous offenser."

Filch stared at her somewhat blankly, although his eyes were still narrowed; he was obviously still smarting at her earlier insinuation. Of course a Squib could never become the Minister for Magic, but she had not meant to insult him like that. She wasn't exactly making the situation tolerable by apologising to him in French. She had to at least make an effort to appear genuine.

"Excuse me. I did not want to offend you," she corrected herself in her best English.

His features momentarily softened, and his shoulders relaxed. "It's awright. I know ya didn't mean ter offend meh," he acknowledged gruffly.

Ginny's look of trepidation and worry quickly morphed into relief. She would have never been able to get away with a simple apology in her time. Either Filch of the past was less cantankerous than his future self or being a pretty, blonde French girl allowed Ginny to get away with a lot. She figured it was a combination of both. Merlin knew how much Lucius could get away with by being handsome.

"For 'ow many years 'ave you wanted to be zee Minister for Magic?" Ginny asked, taking this as her cue to good-naturedly inquire into his obsession with the position (and the pictures).

The caretaker looked at her askance, still not ready to trust her. Ginny then offered him another attractive smile, and he relented somewhat.

"I 'ave e'er since I worz a kid," he replied; the lines in his brow seemed to have faded, making him almost look youthful.

"Oh," Ginny muttered quietly, looking down at her hands.

It was rather sad to hear that a man who could not perform magic wanted to be the head of everything magical. She had never known Filch to want to aspire to anything more than what he was: a grumpy, old bastard. Of course, she had never made it a point to get to know him. He was a figure of mockery, someone who tried to make students' lives hell. The man before her now, however, was very human and very fragile, with real hopes and ambition.

What had made him become the man that she knew in the future? She supposed it was life, in general. It made sense, in a way. All of his fears, doubts, and insecurities were wrapped up in the stigma of the title 'Squib'. Over the years, being reduced to names and never achieving his goals had turned him into a bitter and resentful old man. It would make anyone a scowling tosspot.

"I know just about e'ery single spell thar is," he added with pride in his voice, causing Ginny to glance up.

He then proceeded to list spells, demonstrating the wandwork with his finger. He was actually correct from what she could tell. Also, when he spoke Latin, gone was his horrible accent and slur of speech. Amazingly, he could enunciate each syllable perfectly. He also started to name spells that Ginny had never even heard of, along with the history that originated them. He was beginning to sound a lot like Hermione; Ginny had begun to try to think of ways to extricate herself from the educational (and boring) situation that she had inadvertently talked her way into.

"Did yeh know that Petrifying an Acromantula is the only way ta disable it? E'en when Bound or Immobilised, it can still shoot its highly toxic and corrosive venom or e'en its web."

Ginny raised her brow, trying her best to look interested.

"It's all for naught, really," Filch stated after he finished his long, magical history lesson. "I will never become anything in the wizarding world. I'm a Squib. I was lucky ta get this job or ta even be alive ..." He trailed off and then looked up at her with shrewd and calculating eyes. "Yeh don't understand much of wot I'm say, do yeh?"

Ginny tilted her head and almost spat out that she did, but then she figured that Filch was only sharing all of this information with her because he thought that she didn't understand English very well (she doubted many could understand his English very well either—it was almost as bad as Hagrid's).

"Pardonnez-moi?" she asked with a feigned nonplussed expression on her face, and the caretaker smiled a toothy grin.

"Yer awright, young miss." He picked up a frame and began to clean it. "Sorry to 'ave jabbered yer ear off. I can't help wot I am, but we all 'ave dreams ta be more than wot we are."

Suddenly, Ginny felt her heart reach out to the old codger, and she found herself drawing inspiration from the deepest part of herself.

"Any-sing iz pos-sible," she said, smiling sadly, "if you 'ave zee nerve."

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** Aww, a Hallmark moment with Filch, including the infamous Twins' reference. I doubt any of you wanted to read that, but I don't care. My story. I write what I want. Watch out for the next chapter in which Snape transforms into wanton sex god. No, not really ... *thinks about it* No, I really shouldn't.

Did you note the Back to the Future reference? I'm so clever. *clears throat and looks down and to the left* So anyway ... aren't Draco and Ginny so cute that you just want to eat them both with a spoon? So obstinate though. I wonder why someone would write them that way? Stupid author. Oh, wait, that's me. I'm the stupid author. Well, look at the title, genius. It says they're not ready to play nice yet (that and one or both is/are threatening physical harm). It takes time. Who says there will even be a D/G romance, hmm? *ducks projectiles* Wow, tough crowd.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Je n'ai pas voulu vous offenser _= I did not want to offend you


	7. Time For Plan A

**Chapter 7 – Time For Plan A (AKA 'We're F#%ked')**

"Evans, come on, I was just joking!"

"Well, newsflash, Potter: you're not funny."

"Would the both of you just shut up!" Draco shot murderous glances at the younger Gryffindors who had decided to argue in front of his door on an early Saturday morning.

Lily went to grab her wand, but Draco already had his drawn. The girl was almost always two steps ahead, so he had every right to look and feel as smug as he did in that very moment when her green eyes narrowed on his wand, and she lowered her hand in defeat.

"You learn fast," she complimented Draco with a half-grin on her pretty face.

Draco _had_ learnt fast; while Lily Evans was or at least _seemed_ to be a very sweet girl, she was unquestionably ruthless with a twisted sense of humour. She was also undoubtedly cunning and Draco, understandably, was quite wary of her. She was still a Gryffindor and Gryffindors were notoriously rash—curse first, ask questions later. It also didn't help that she was eyeing him rather oddly as of late. In fact, it seemed as though the entire female population had been paying him a lot of attention lately. It was as annoying as it was unnerving.

"He's the only one with the brass balls to put an end to your fighting," a deep voice drawled from behind.

All three turned to see Sirius Black. He had his arms folded across his chest and was leaning against the wall; a cocky grin was spread across his handsome face.

"Thanks for that, German. I'm always amazed when you render Evans speechless." Sirius then threw a dashing smirk Lily's way, but she only scowled at the dark-haired boy. "Perhaps our plucky redhead is yet another one of your groupies," he added with a snort. "You must wonder why she always decides to pick a fight with our lovelorn James here in front of _your_ room."

Draco grimaced and stood up straight against the doorframe. One did have to wonder.

Lily didn't even bother to dignify the tall Marauder with a reply. Instead, she just glared at Sirius with her wand gripped tightly in hand. The dark-haired Gryffindor stared back as he was not known for being burdened with an over-abundance of common sense. It was a battle of wills, and Draco knew which one would win. After a moment, Sirius shook his head and looked taken aback. He furrowed his brow and gaped openly at Lily, who was now smirking with triumph after successfully utilising Legilimency on the Marauder.

"Black, I suggest you keep your big gob shut or I might let it slip about your fascination with Animagi."

Both Sirius and James recoiled at her statement while Draco's scowl only deepened. The blond hadn't the foggiest what Evans was referring to, but he really didn't care. It amused him to watch the scary redhead unnerve and intimidate her housemates. This didn't mean he liked the girl, but he could, at times, understand why Snape tolerated the bint. She was smart and feisty. Too bad she was a Mudblood.

Another issue that was 'too bad' was the fact that he was in the same house with the younger band of misfits. Draco was getting rather sick of refereeing their heated rows every day. It was obvious that Potter was infatuated with Evans as he picked a fight with her every time he saw her, much like how Draco did with Ginevra. Not that this implied that Draco was infatuated with the Weasley girl. No, not at all. It was evident that Evans didn't like Potter much because most of the time she ignored him, unwilling to take his bait. Ginevra, however, always argued back with Draco because she was an obstinate, pig-headed witch.

Wait, why was he thinking about the Weasley girl now?

Evans and Potter started up their heated row again, stirring Draco from his musings. Remus finally entered the fray and tried to intervene, but it was to no avail. Sirius simply stood back and laughed. Draco, on the other hand, sighed and closed his door, soundproofing the room with a wave of his wand. There was no point in getting himself worked up over stupid things like Gryffindors and Weasleys. Dumbledore would solve their Time-Turner problem and get him back to his time. All of this would become a memory—a hellish memory. Unfortunately, Draco had to live in the now and his now consisted of a standing rivalry with his own father.

It had been two weeks since Lucius knocked Draco off his broom. Since then Draco had come to be regarded as a type of hero amongst the other houses, especially with Gryffindor. The Marauders had inundated him with questions—harangued was a more accurate term. They were always asking when Draco was going to exact his revenge. For the most part Draco ignored them like he ignored everyone. His only concern was going home and making sure that the She-Weasel didn't fuck with his life any more than she already had. He had tried, in vain, to corner the Weaslette on several occasions to discuss his father with her, but whenever he got a chance either Lucius or Narcissa was sitting beside the little Weasley. Draco dared not approach with either there: his father would likely try to hex him and his mother would likely try to kiss him.

Draco had been avoiding Narcissa since the Whomping Willow incident and his later release from the infirmary. She had been persistent though—tenacious even. After a week and a half of running away from her at every opportunity (thank Merlin they weren't in the same year and forced to be in the same classes), he realised that he could not do this any longer. He needed to talk to Weasley and come up with a plan to right what she was currently mucking up: his right to be born. He needed Ginevra to get away from Lucius and for Narcissa to take her place. He would have to talk to her today and hope to make her see reason.

**-x-**

"Weasley—Ginevra, we need to talk."

Startled by the sound of Draco's voice, Ginny dropped her books just outside the Astronomy Tower and instantly froze, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What is it?" she asked, cautiously bending down to pick up her textbooks.

Draco stared down at her, unwilling to help. "It's about my father."

Ginny stood up and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Taking in a deep breath, she turned away, failing to meet his Draco's eyes.

"Look, Malfoy, you don't need to tell me." She glanced up to see the anger and frustration flashing in his silver eyes. "I know that I am in the wrong," she admitted, swallowing her pride. "I have been trying to avoid Lucius ever since we got out of the infirmary, but he is making it rather difficult."

Draco's face seemed to soften at her admittance and he gave a reluctant nod. "Yes, he is not one to be ignored."

Ginny shook her head, unsure of how to say what had been on her mind for the past two weeks.

"I-I am sorry, Malfoy. You were right," she stated bluntly, and Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I should have never gone to Hogsmeade with him. I should have never kissed him—"

"What?" It was more of a growl than a question.

Ginny glanced up to see his grey eyes almost darken to black. He took a threatening step forward, and she retreated slowly.

"I—"

"You _kissed_ my father?" Draco repeated slowly. He reached out with lightening quick speed and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her closer to him. "How could you, Weasley?"

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, somewhat intimidated by the daunting, dark figure looming before her. "It was a mistake." She couldn't even bring herself to wrest her hand from his grasp. "He's so charming and—"

"Can't you find someone else to snog—someone your own age?" Draco snarled, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Ginny blinked twice. "He _is_ my age."

Draco furrowed his brow and took a step back, letting go of her wrist. "That's not what I meant. I ..." He trailed off and shook his head, seeming to have an internal battle with himself over what he should say or do. "We can fix this."

Ginny lowered her hand and looked him in the eye. "How?"

Draco loosened his tie and leaned back against the wall. "If he thinks you're a slag, he'll—"

Ginny brought her hand up to slap him, but he anticipated it, catching her wrist and pulling her forward so that she bumped into him.

"Do _not_ do that again," he warned.

Ginny breathed heavily, looking up into his dark, pewter-coloured eyes. She wanted to slap him again but she knew that he would catch her—he was stronger than she. Ginny also couldn't bring herself to move. She was trapped in his grasp, pressed up against his solid form. She felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and burn her flesh as though they were fire. His touch was electric. She was finding it difficult to breathe being so close to him. Why was he looking at her so intently with such intensity? Why wouldn't he just let her go?

"I am not going to act like a whore," Ginny tried to state defiantly, but her voice came out as a whisper.

Draco finally let go of her hand, and Ginny stepped back, looking down at the ground. Draco was so much like his father but different. She couldn't pinpoint what it was about him that drew her in. It was probably because he annoyed the hell out of her.

"You don't have to _be_ a whore," he said quietly, and she glanced up, seeing his steel eyes soften. "You just have to make him jealous."

Ginny arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "How? I-I can't just make out with _anyone_. That would alter someone else's future."

Draco let out laboured sigh and stuffed his fists into his trouser pockets. "Me."

Ginny looked up. "What?"

"You heard me," he answered quietly, meeting her perplexed gaze.

"I thought I did, but ..." She paused. "What are you proposing, Malfoy?"

Draco took his hands out of his pockets and took a step forward. Ginny held her ground, refusing to be intimidated. She was not a wilting flower or some plain Jane. She was stronger than this. She had to stop letting these Malfoy men make her weak in the knees or soften her resolve—starting with Draco.

"Listen, he already hates me." Draco smirked half-heartedly. "Kissing me isn't going to change anyone's future in _this_ timeline."

Ginny swallowed hard and stumbled backwards. "You want me to _kiss_ you?"

"No," he countered much too quickly as he reached out to grab her and stand her upright. "I mean ..." He paused and let go of her waist. "It's the only way, Weasley. We have to."

Ginny bit her lip, still feeling the touch of his hands on her waist. "For the greater good?" she asked, taking a tentative step forward.

Draco looked down into her honey-coloured eyes and brought a large hand to her cheek, running his fingers along her smooth skin. She closed her eyes and leaned forward as she felt his fingertips graze along her temple up into her hairline. His hand grasped a handful of thick blonde hair and pulled her head back. She let out a short gasp and opened her eyes to see the cocky bastard grin—a lazy grin with half-lidded eyes.

He bent down, his lips barely grazing hers. "For the greater ..."

"What is this?" a voice boomed, and both Draco and Ginny jumped apart as though they had just been electrocuted.

"Lucius?" Ginny asked. The shorter but broader Malfoy was glaring at them both. "I-it's n-nothing. I—"

"I will see you in class, Geneviève," Lucius said, leaving no room for argument. "I need to discuss something with Drago here." Lucius didn't even bother to turn back to see if she was leaving. His attention was fixed on Draco alone.

"No, Lucius," Ginny stated with more confidence than she thought she had.

Both Draco and Lucius turned to look at her, bewildered. Draco's eyes momentarily danced in the light. If she wasn't mistaken, he looked somewhat impressed.

"I will not have you hexing him again," she threatened.

Lucius raised a pale blond eyebrow at her impetuousness; however, his expression was inscrutable. "I promise that I will not hurt him, Geneviève," he assured her calmly, offering her a charming smile.

Ginny frowned. She would not be so easily fooled. She looked past Lucius to see Draco nodding, as if to tell her that it was okay for her to leave. She reluctantly lowered her eyes and turned around to slowly ascend the stairs to class.

Once she was out of sight, Lucius turned to Draco, and his countenance darkened considerably. "What did I tell you about Geneviève?" he asked rhetorically. "She is not yours."

"She's not yours, either," Draco countered with a sneer, not sure why Lucius's overt display of possessiveness irked him so greatly. His father didn't bloody well own the Weasley girl.

"Shall we settle this like men?" Lucius suggested menacingly as he rested his hand on his wand.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and he scowled. "I am not going to fight you over a girl."

"Then what will you fight over?" Lucius asked seriously. "I will have her, Drago. There is no mistaking that." His grey eyes glinted with malevolence. "However ..." He paused. "When I'm done with her, you may have what's left—"

Lucius suddenly went tumbling down the stairs, sprawling out onto the floor in a rather undignified manner. A crowd of students gathered round and looked up to see the Durmstrang student standing mid-way up the stairs with his fist still cocked and his chest heaving.

Draco had just punched his father!

"So be it, Unglaub," Lucius growled as he rose to his feet, wiping the blood from his nose. "Tomorrow morning, at dawn, behind the changing rooms. Get yourself a second and arrange for your own funeral."

There was a great murmur amongst the crowd, and Draco unclenched his fist.

"I'll be there," he replied, feeling the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

What had he done?

**-x-**

"Have you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Lucius is duelling that Durmstrang boy, Drago, tomorrow morning."

"What?"

Ginny stormed out of the Slytherin common room and made a beeline for Lucius's quarters. She barged through the door, sending a half-naked Charles Nott toppling onto his arse. He glared up at the petite blonde with annoyance and wonderment, but Ginny just walked past him.

"Geneviève, what are you—?"

Ginny cut Lucius's questioning off with a simple raise of her hand while the other rested on her hip. Her eyes were dark and narrowed. Lucius lifted a blond eyebrow in surprise—surprise at how feisty and intrepid the French girl could be. It was almost contradicting how one minute she would be demure and gentle and the next she would be a ball of energy, like a little spitfire hellion. He sometimes wondered why she was sorted into Slytherin. She seemed to have no control over her emotions.

"Lucius, what iz zis I 'ear aboot you duelling Drago?" she demanded, and the almost imperceptible look of shock on his face quickly morphed into a well-crafted expression of concern.

"Geneviève, it is a matter of honour: yours. I am simply defending you," he stated as a matter-of-fact, and she growled at him. Literally growled.

"I do not need _you_ to defend me!" she exclaimed defiantly, lifting her proud chin.

Before he could reply, before he could even digest her sudden change in demeanour, she turned on her heel and stormed out of his room, knocking Nott back down on her way out.

**-x-**

"Draco, what the bloody hell is going on?"

Draco looked up from his book to see the Weasley girl standing in front of him. She was breathing rather heavily as if she had run all the way to the library to find him.

"My father wants me to duel him," he stated simply, figuring that was the topic she wished to discuss.

She rolled her eyes. "You cannot be serious."

"I hit him without provocation," Draco retorted with an indifferent shrug. "Like some kind of commoner." He scrunched up his nose in disgust. "It was quite the spectacle, to be honest. I dare say that I haven't the foggiest notion what got into me. Regardless, honour demands that I grant his request to a duel."

"Honour be damned!" Ginny spat, putting both hands on her slender hips. "I am going to speak to Dumbledore and put an end to this!"

The ex-Gryffindor then turned on her heel and began her second dramatic exeunt of the evening, barging out of the library with her long blonde hair billowing.

"Ginevra, wait!" Draco ran after her, out of the library, ignoring the loud and scathing 'hushes' hissed at him. He grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. She looked livid to the point where she was either going to break someone's face or break down crying; he was uncomfortable with either option. "You can't just stop this."

"Yes, I can, Draco." She boldly lifted her chin but did not try to extract her hand from his. "I am not going to see you killed by your father. This is all my fault and I intend to fix it."

**-x-**

"German, are you going to duel him?" Sirius asked Draco for the umpteenth time, causing Draco's jaw to tighten to the point where the muscle was beginning to spasm.

"No," he answered tersely.

"Why not?" the Marauder countered.

"Because I am not stupid?" Draco replied with an upwards inflection. He pushed past the annoying fifth-years to take off out through the Fat Lady portrait towards the Great Hall for dinner.

"That has yet to be proven," Sirius rejoined with a snort as he, James, Remus, and Peter all followed Draco down the tower stairs like lost little puppies.

"Pardon me?" Draco snarled back, turning around to face the slightly shorter Gryffindor.

"Well, you did get into a fight with him over that French girl," Sirius commented with a smirk that rivalled Draco's.

"I did not get into a fight with him over Gin—over the French girl!" Draco corrected himself, exasperated.

It was because of Ginevra that he had got into this mess, but it was also because of her that he had got out of it. She had reported the incident to Dumbledore and both Lucius and Draco were called to the headmaster's office. Their wands were taken away and were to be kept until tomorrow after breakfast. Both were told that there would be no duel, and that the headmaster would be watching them closely.

Draco had to be thankful, again, towards the Weasley girl. While Draco was a skilled dueller he knew that his father was better—as he was more willing to fight dirty. Draco could also be underhanded but there was always that annoying, nagging voice at the back of his mind that never permitted him to do so. Even when he fought with Potter, he had been fair—well, as fair as a Slytherin and a Malfoy could be. He supposed that he got it from his mother. Lucius could be a very noble man, but _this_ Lucius was a teenager and he was fighting over the possession of a girl. There was no way Draco could expect an honest fight.

"Yeah, and Prongs here doesn't get into rows with Snape because he likes Evans," Sirius commented, shaking Draco from his internal memoirs.

"Padfoot!" James cried, pushing Sirius forward from behind.

"Sirius is right," Remus added quietly, and James turned to look at the gangly boy with an open mouth.

"Moony, not you too!" James exclaimed with a wounded expression on his face as thrust his fists into his pockets.

"You all gossip too much," Draco remarked with annoyance, as they made their way to the opening of the Great Hall.

"What's that supposed to mean?" James asked, furrowing his brow.

"You're like a gaggle of girls," Draco answered with a smirk, and Remus tried to suppress the urge to laugh aloud.

"I resent that," Sirius stated all-too-convincingly, but he, too, was trying hard not to laugh.

"Speaking of girls," Peter announced, causing everyone to turn around and follow his gaze, "here comes one of your groupies, Drago."

Draco looked up to see his mother waltzing towards him from the Entrance Hall. "Oh Merlin, no," he groaned, wishing that he could magically sink into the floor.

"The only two you don't have drooling after you are Evans and that Beauxbatons girl," Sirius commented dryly as he watched his cousin make her way over to them.

"You better not have Evans going after you," James growled somewhat threateningly. "It's bad enough that she's thick as thieves with that greasy git, Snape. I don't need you as competition."

"You needn't worry about that," Draco assured the younger Gryffindor, trying hard not to roll his eyes or grimace in disgust. The last girl Draco wanted to get familiar with was Evans. Well, second last. His mother was his number one fear.

Draco then felt a light punch to his shoulder and he turned to see James Potter shooting him a lopsided grin—the kind that bespoke of gratitude and affection, like the younger Gryffindor was considering Draco a mate. My how Draco wanted to slap that expression off James's face.

"Drago, how are you this evening?" Narcissa asked with a smooth, cheery voice as she reached his side.

Draco forced a 'charming' smile to appear on his face. "Good," he answered. "How are you, Miss Black?"

"Please, Drago, call me Cissa." She smiled warmly, and Draco had to convince his hands not to fidget. "I am wonderful. Thank you so much for asking." She looked behind him and saw the Marauders smirking at them, listening to every word, so she grabbed his arm and led him away from the nosy quartet. "Drago, I was wondering if you'd like to go for a walk with me after dinner. I know it's a little cool outside, but I am sure that you are used to much cooler weather at Durmstrang." She leaned into him and looked up at him through long eyelashes. "It could be like a date."

The look in her eyes was suggestive, and Draco swallowed nervously.

"Sorry, I ..." Draco paused. He had briefly considered saying something along the lines of 'I no good speak English', but she already knew that he could understand and speak perfect English, so he couldn't very well default to 'I'm a foreigner'. "I must go practise Quidditch after dinner with my ... mates." He motioned to the Marauders who stood behind him, still smirking. "Maybe later this week?"

She seemed a little disappointed with his answer but decided not to show it. Instead, she squeezed his arm and before she let go she winked at him. "I'll hold you to that."

"Excellent," Draco said dryly as he watched her leave to enter the Great Hall.

Sirius strode up behind Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. "Smooth, German. Smooth."

Draco shrugged off his hand. "Shut up, Black," he retorted half-heartedly, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

"We really do need to practise anyway," James suggested absently as they all turned back and made their way to the Gryffindor table with Draco trailing behind.

"Big game coming up before Christmas hols," Sirius added with a nod.

"Not too long before Christmas break too," James commented. "Less than a month to go." He then took a seat and offered Draco the one next to him. "Hey, Drago, I forgot to ask you: what are you doing for the Christmas holidays?"

Draco shrugged indifferently. He had hoped to be going home by then, but who knew how long Dumbledore's testing was going to take. "Staying here, I guess."

"Oh," James said with a weird look on his face. "I was wondering—"

"Prongs, there goes Snape and he's without Evans," Sirius interrupted, elbowing James in the side and then pointed to Severus, who seemed to be making his way towards the Entrance Hall instead of the dining room. "Let's go bug him."

"Er, alright," James agreed somewhat reluctantly, standing up to join Sirius. "You guys coming?"

"Nah, I'm going to go to the library," Remus answered with a shake of his head as he piled food onto his plate.

James then looked over at Draco, who also shook his head. "I have an essay due for Transfiguration tomorrow. I'll be in the library too, I suppose." He briefly glanced at Remus and then turned to his plate. "Come get me when you are going to practise though."

James and Sirius looked disappointed, but they both nodded. "Will do," James said. "Wormtail, you coming?"

Peter nodded and the three Marauders took off towards the Entrance Hall to torture Snape. Draco absently wondered what they were going to do to the dour Slytherin. It really wasn't any concern of his or in his best interest to get involved. Besides, the former Potions master was quite capable of taking care of himself, and if he wasn't, Evans certainly was.

"I'm staying here too—for the holidays, that is," Remus stated somewhat shyly as Draco began to pick at his food.

"Brilliant," Draco supplied dryly, showing his obvious disinterest in the fact that he'd be spending the Christmas holidays with a werewolf. Needless to say, he was less than enthused.

Remus cast Draco a sidelong glance and the shadow of a smile crossed his haggard features. "So, you'd rather go to James's house, then?"

Remus knew very well what James was angling at by asking the 'Durmstrang' boy about where he would be spending his holidays. The less annoying Marauder could read people well. Draco knew this too, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of Harry Potter's father trying to befriend him.

"Touché," Draco retorted with a softer expression on his face as both he and Remus silently went about consuming their meal.

Hopefully, Dumbledore would have the Time-Turner fixed before Christmas holidays. And while Remus was the most tolerable Gryffindor he had met, Draco really did not want to be here any longer. He wanted to go home.

**-x-**

Ginny had tried to sneak out of the Slytherin dormitories without being detected by Lucius. Unfortunately, the boy always seemed to know where she was or where she'd be. Ever since she stormed into his room and ultimately reported him to Dumbledore, he had been keeping track of her to the point of obsession. He wasn't mad at her; at least he didn't appear to be. If anything, he seemed to be more enamoured with her. Draco's plan to get Lucius jealous had obviously backfired. He appeared more determined now than ever.

Ashamedly, Ginny was still attracted to the undeniably handsome Slytherin, but she had also come to realise (and remember) who Lucius was as well as who he'd become. He was the man who would later give her a cursed diary that would change her life forever. While she could not condemn him for something that he had not yet done, she knew what he was capable of, as indicated by what he did and tried to do to his own son. And that was the other issue: Lucius Malfoy was Draco's father and Narcissa's husband. Her dating Lucius Malfoy messed with this future reality. She had to stop mucking up the past and fix all that she had done wrong.

Lucius regally escorted her to the Great Hall for dinner, much to her chagrin. He was still charming and attentive, but she was beginning to feel as if it were a show. It had been almost a week since he had his wand returned to him. There were still rumours flying about how Lucius and Drago were fighting over her, but they both ignored it. She had not been able to get away from Lucius to talk to Draco. This, however, wasn't the only reason why she was hesitant to see Draco. Ever since their close encounter on the Astronomy Tower stairs, Ginny had found herself becoming somewhat nervous around Draco. It was the same kind of feeling that she had around Lucius when she had first met him—only this feeling with Draco was slightly different. She couldn't quite place her finger on how exactly different it was.

As they finally sat down at the table, Ginny greeted Narcissa, who sat to her left. The pretty blonde absently returned Ginny's salutation, but her attention was fixed elsewhere. Ginny followed Cissa's adoring gaze and found it resting on none other than the other grey-eyed blond who got her into this mess: Draco Malfoy. Ginny scowled. All of the girls seemed to be looking at him as of late, tripping over their feet and tongues to talk to him. So what that he had bested Lucius and knocked him down a flight of stairs? So what that he had survived a fall off his broom? So what that he was damn good-looking? Wait, no. No, he wasn't good-looking. No. Okay ... maybe he was.

It was with these conflicting thoughts bouncing around Ginny's mind when the aforementioned blond set his gaze on her. She blinked a few times and then turned her head to scowl. He was probably looking at his mother or his father and accidentally let his eyes rest on hers—his penetrating grey eyes—no, his _stupid_ Malfoy eyes!

"Students, I have an announcement," Dumbledore said loudly, just as their food appeared in front of them.

Ginny turned her attention to the professors' table, wondering what announcement he had in store for them. He surely wasn't going to reveal who she and Draco were and that their Time-Turner was fixed, was he? No, most certainly not. That was a ridiculous notion.

"This Christmas at Hogwarts," he began with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his rheumatic blue eyes, "there will be a ball—the Hogwarts Christmas Ball."

There was a loud murmuring and whispering amongst the students at every table.

"As some of you may or may not know, the Christmas Ball is held randomly and is generally not announced until a few weeks before Christmas." Louder whispering commenced with some confessing that they knew this fact while others shamelessly admitted their ignorance. "The ball begins early Christmas Eve and lasts until midnight."

"Why is it random, Headmaster?" an intrepid and curious Hufflepuff asked, earning himself a mixture of glares as well as nods of appreciation from the other tables.

"The ball is supposed to foster peace and harmony amongst houses. It encourages positive interaction—something that we have been lacking this year," Dumbledore explained, peering over the rims of his half-moon spectacles at both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "Only fifth-years and up are allowed to attend, and you are all encouraged to stay here for the holidays. The train will follow its normal schedule as well as come back on Christmas morning to take those of you back to your families."

The entire hall went silent for a moment and then erupted in applause. Everyone began chattering excitedly. Lucius then excused himself and rose from his seat, exiting the Great Hall. Ginny watched him go with a frown, wondering where he was going when the girls around her started to giggle and squeal.

"Oh, I hope that Parkinson asks me."

"Of course he'd ask you, Vi. He's your boyfriend!"

"I'm just saying. Who do you think will ask you, Cissa?"

"Drago, I hope," the blonde replied wistfully, and her three roommates began to giggle.

"He is rather handsome," Mary admitted with a blush.

"Too bad he's a Gryffindor," Beth added with disdain as the other girls agreed.

"I know," Narcissa agreed with a sigh as she rested her perfect chin on her slender hand. "He's so much like a Slytherin though."

Vi snorted. "So much like Lucius, you mean."

"Shut it!" Narcissa snapped, her face contorting into an ugly sneer, which caused Violet to recoil. The blonde then raised an eyebrow and smirked, sticking out her tongue and winking at her girlfriend, who then began to laugh.

"So who will our lovely little Gin will be going with?" Narcissa asked, smiling sweetly at Ginny now.

"I do not know," Ginny admitted truthfully, looking somewhat bashful.

"Of course you do," Mary admonished. "We all know that Lucius will ask you."

All four girls nodded in agreement.

"Maybe I will not say yes," Ginny stated defiantly, holding her pointed chin high.

"Oh, brave girl!" Vi snorted again. "Someone has a little bit of Gryffindor in her."

"I wouldn't mind some Gryffindor in me," Narcissa commented facetiously as she looked over at the Gryffindor table, biting her lower lip.

Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Cissa!" Mary cried as Beth and Vi giggled.

"Oh, dammit!" Narcissa cursed, ignoring the girls as she made to rise from her seat and then thought best not to. "A crowd has already formed around him. I'll have to catch him after practise."

Ginny saw the gaggle of girls surrounding Draco and frowned.

"You have his routine down pat and everything, eh, Cissa?" Vi asked with a sly grin on her face. "You little stalker." She winked.

"Oh, sod off, Vi!" Narcissa laughed, swatting playfully at her friend.

The girls then began to talk about what kind of dresses they would wear and how they would style their hair. Ginny listened absently, nodding in agreement from time to time. Her attention, however, was fixed on Draco, who appeared as though he were trying to swat away flies, which in actuality were girls. He finally got up from his table, and she decided to follow him. Maybe it would be best for her to ask him to the ball, thus allowing Lucius to take Narcissa. But Ginny going with Draco wouldn't ensure that Lucius would ask Narcissa. Cissa seemed hell-bent on having Draco, and Lucius appeared to be quite possessive of Ginny.

Just as Ginny was about to excuse herself from the table to follow Draco and have a talk with him, Lucius returned to his seat and brought her down beside him.

"Geneviève, would you like to attend the Christmas Ball with me?" he asked out of nowhere.

Flabbergasted, Ginny didn't know how to respond. Should she say no—could she say no? She looked over at Draco. It was as though he was immersed in a sea of female students. All were smiling and laughing and trying to touch him while he backed himself into a corner.

So much for him hating it here in this timeline and desperately wanting to go home.

"Yes, Lucius," Ginny finally answered, turning her attention back to the tall blond. "I'd love to."

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** So, a Christmas Ball that Lucius was originally supposed to invite Narcissa to but invites Ginny instead. She, in turn, accepts. Why? Wasn't she supposed to make everything right again? Plan A (getting Lucius jealous) obviously didn't work, so what the hell is Plan B?

Ah, Ginny, you redeem yourself and then do something foolish again, or is this all part of her plan, or am I just torturing you all by ending it with a cliffie? Maybe both.

As for Ginny's attitude as of late, you remember what it was like to be a teenage girl? Women, at any age, are not exactly rational beings in the heat of the moment. So, can we foresee pink-haired babies in the future? Ginny becoming Draco's mother? Eww! So many different outcomes, and I'm not going to give away the ending, so don't ask. =P

**Canon/Creative License note:** The Nott's in this fic was _not_ Theodore Nott's father. Maybe he was a cousin. What? You don't know! ^_~

* * *

**Additional note** (which I would suggest not reading if you don't like dirty language):

"You don't have to _be_ a whore," he said quietly, and she glanced up, seeing his steel eyes soften. "You just have to make him jealous."

So, I read this part to my boyfriend, and he interrupts, stating rather vehemently, "Well, that's a stupid plan, Draco! You're just going to make it fucking worse." – It is somewhat disturbing when he cuts me off so that he can _directly_ address Draco, a fictional character, in order to chastise him. No more beers for Chris when I read him my stories.

At least it was a much better reaction than the one I got from him for my Snape/Lily story. He would stop me at every other line to rant about how "This is bullshit!" or "Lily pisses me off. Fuck her" or my personal favourite: "She just wanted feel his love—she wanted her cake and to eat it too! You know what that is? That's selfishness. I hope she chokes on what's-his-name's cock. Lia, you write some fucked up shit. That's all I have to say." (FYI, he's a Marine. He swears _a lot_).

Oh, and it goes on and on and on. I should write a story about him.


	8. Plan A Failed Miserably

**Chapter 8 – Plan A Failed Miserably, Moving On To Plan B**

After dinner last night, and escaping the many girls who tried to block his path towards escape, Draco had taken to a long broom ride. He was trying to stay out as late as possible so that he could avoid the numerous witches who wanted him to ask them to the ball. He was used to attention from the Slytherin girls, and even the occasional Ravenclaw, but not the entire female population. This was becoming ridiculous.

Draco decided that enough was enough. He needed his mother and every other female in this school out of his hair. He was going to talk to Dumbledore about keeping him and the Weasley girl out of school until the blasted Time-Turner was fixed and, feeling extremely charitable, he considered informing the redhead first. However, before he could even think to get her attention he had received an owl at the crack of dawn from the ex-Gryffindor herself. She had asked him to meet her in the library before breakfast.

After sifting through his wardrobe for suitable attire, Draco finally made it to the library and headed towards the back. He glanced around to see a few studious students working on essays and the like and frowned. He hadn't even known that the library was open this early in the morning. Weaving in and out of the shelves of books, he finally located a table in the lounge section. There he spotted the familiar golden coif of a petite witch, who was absently drumming her fingers on the table.

"Weasley?" Draco asked a little too roughly; his voice had not yet come to him.

She jumped in her seat and looked up at him nervously, fidgeting with her hands. "So you've heard?"

"Heard what?" He did not like the worried look that she was giving him.

"That Lucius asked me to the ball."

"He WHAT?"

There was one loud shush, and Draco whipped his head around to glower at the perpetrator, causing the student to recoil in horror.

"I swear, it's like you're selectively deaf," Ginny commented facetiously, and Draco turned back to face her. "I said, your father asked me out to the Christmas Ball."

"I'm not deaf, Weasley," he stated tetchily. "I just don't process absurdity well." Draco then sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "So you said 'no', naturally." Obviously she just wanted to inform him of his father's intentions, to give him a heads up.

"No ..." She paused, giving him that nervous look once more, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "'No' you said 'no' or 'no' you didn't say 'no' or 'no'—wait, hold on. I'm confused." He raised a hand to silence her while he brought the other hand to his eyes to rub at them tenderly. "Just tell me that you refused."

"I accepted."

He lowered both hands and took a threatening step forward. "Weasley, are you insane?"

"I didn't want him to hurt you," she answered defensively. "He's your father—"

"Exactly, and I'd like it to remain that way." He clenched his hands into fists. "Weasley, don't you see that by dating my father you are preventing him from getting together with my mother, thus hindering my birth?"

Ginny stood still and pondered on the notion, bringing a finger to her lip and grinning foolishly to herself.

"Don't even think about it, Weasley," he retorted, pointing a hostile finger. "I _will_ be born!"

"But it's just one date, one ball, _one_ dance," she said dismissively.

Draco rolled his eyes at her naïveté. "Yes, one that my father originally asked my mother to. It was the dance that they kissed at and began their courtship, which, ergo, led to my conception."

"On the same night?" she asked incredulously.

"On the same ni—what the—? No!" he roared back, frustrated. "I was not literally conceived _that_ night, Weasley, but it did begin their relationship."

Ginny let out a sigh and shook her golden locks, turning her face up at him to give him a predictable determined look. She was either going to flip him off and yell at him or come up with a Gryffindor version of a crafty idea—the kind where people (namely him) got wounded, maimed, or possibly killed. He really hoped that she would yell at him.

"Listen, Malfoy, this is all happening for a reason—"

"Yeah, you!" he retorted, cutting her off. "You're the reason, Weasley." He crossed his arms over his broad chest and angrily sulked.

She shook her head. "What I mean is we can get out of this. It's like that moo-vee _Back to the Future_."

"Huh?" He issued her a rather perplexing look. What the hell was a 'moo-vee'?

"I couldn't just hope that your father would ask your mother out. We need to make sure of it, and I think I know how," she said with a determined nod of her head to match the equally determined look on her face. "It will all work out in the end."

She had some obviously intricate and no doubt stupid plan formulated in her addled mind. Dammit, why couldn't she just act like a predictable Weasley and fly off the handle? Then he could just swing her over his shoulder and drag her to Dumbledore's office, claim that she had gone mental and, therefore, needed to be locked up until the Time-Turner was fixed. But, no—no, she had to get all Granger on him and come up with a 'solution'. The problem with this was that the She-Weasel wasn't borrowing Granger's somewhat competent brain for this task; she was using the Boy-Weasel's. Everything was bound to go to hell in a hand-basket.

Defeated, Draco flopped down on the sofa next to her and sighed. "Well, it must be downright comforting to live in your wonderful happy-go-lucky land, Weasley, but I am in far too much shock and outrage at the moment to break down your mental instabilities." He rested his head back. "We haven't the luxury to hope that everything will turn out to be sunshine and rainbows."

"You are such a pessimist," she hissed, sitting down beside him.

Draco rolled his head to the side so that he could look at her. "I'm a realist, Weasley."

"Stop calling me that, Malfoy!" she hissed, looking around the room. "Someone might hear you."

Draco snorted, letting the ghost of a mocking smile adorn his lips. He was too tired to keep the perpetual scowl plastered on his face. "Well, hello, Pot. I'm Kettle. Nice to meet you."

"Huh?" She looked confused and then shook her head. "Oh, right. _Drago_," she corrected. "We need to come up with a plan, one that will ensure that your parents get together."

"Alright, _Geneviève_," he relented. "What do you propose?"

"Well, obviously you and I can't flirt with one another to make Lucius jealous. Brilliant plan, by the way," she added with a cheeky grin.

Draco rolled his eyes and let his head lull back. "Yes, well I forgot that my father is somewhat like me, or vice versa, and would only see our flirting as a challenge and would become even more enraptured with you."

"Really?" she asked softly.

Draco turned his head and cleared his throat as he sat up in his seat. He had perhaps revealed a bit too much to the Weasley girl. "Yes, well ..."

"Drago, Gin! My two most favourite people," a mellifluous voice announced, startling both Ginny and Draco. "What are you two doing here?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply when Ginny stepped in for him.

"Wee jewst talk aboot school back 'ome," Ginny explained to the smiling Narcissa, who stood in front of them, eyeing them cautiously.

"Oh?" Narcissa looked rather unconvinced.

"Oui, I 'ave a few brodders at Durmstrang," Ginny replied evenly, the lies dripping off her tongue like warm butter on cold steel.

"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed happily. "That explains why you two seem as thick as thieves lately."

"Pardon?" Draco asked as he drew himself up rigidly.

"You two are always off together in the library or near Dumbledore's office," Narcissa said, displaying her unnerving stalking abilities.

She truly was a most observant witch.

"Yes, we have to give reports for back home," Draco explained with a forced smile. "And Dumbledore delivers mail for us. His familiar travels long distances."

"Well, that's a relief. I thought that maybe you two liked each other," Narcissa stated slowly with her head bowed somewhat, looking up through her long lashes to gauge their reactions.

Clever _and_ crafty.

"No!" Draco exclaimed rather violently, and Narcissa's smile brightened.

"Uh, no," Ginny agreed. "Cissa, excusez-nous un moment, s'il vous plaît." The petite blonde then grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him off the sofa. "I moose talk wif Drago aboot my brodder."

"Of course." Narcissa nodded her head in acceptance; however, Ginny could detect a glint of jealousy in her crystal blue eyes.

"Weasley, what the hell?" Draco whispered as the former redhead dragged him towards a bookshelf out of earshot of his mother.

"I know how to fix this," she explained as she let go of his arm.

"How?" He was not sure if he liked where this was going.

"Ask Cissa out to the ball."

No, he did not like it one bit. "What?"

"Ask her to be your date and then try to be ..." Ginny paused, searching for the right words. "Try to be _forceful_ with her."

"I'll ask again, but with much more emphasis: WHAT?" Draco's eyes were as wide as saucer plates.

"You will try to be forceful with your moth—Cissa—at the ball, and I will bring Lucius over so that he sees this. Outraged at seeing a woman being taken advantage of, especially by _you_—his enemy—he will come to her rescue."

"And beat the living shit out of me," he added with a glare.

"Maybe," Ginny admitted, putting her hands up in a friendly manner. "But I will make sure that he doesn't hex you."

"How comforting," he retorted dryly.

"It's perfect," Ginny said, ignoring his sarcasm. "He will save her, and she'll fall in love with him and he with her. It will be great, just like the moo-vees."

Ginny grinned foolishly to herself while Draco frowned, wondering exactly what kind of nonsense was knocking around in that head of hers.

Draco twisted his mouth into a grimace. "I don't know what moo-vees are, but they sound like Muggle rubbish to me."

She shook her head. "Just trust me."

"Famous last words, Weasley," he stated darkly and then pointed a finger at her. "You got us into this mess, and I say you get us out of it by acting like a slag. Why don't you just start snogging every bloke in Double Potions—"

—Slap—

Draco curled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms. "You seriously need to stop doing that."

"Stop calling me a slag then," she countered.

"If my mother wasn't standing directly behind me, I'd—"

"You'd _what_?" she asked daringly as she took a step forward. Her eyes were narrowed. "Go over and ask her, Malfoy." She then pointed behind her to where Narcissa stood.

Draco grumbled to himself and turned around, breathing out heavily through his nostrils. This witch just seemed to barrel through emotions, and he very much disliked being on the receiving end of them. He had nothing to do now but what she said. Hopefully, she had a much more intricate plan going on upstairs.

Draco finally walked back over to his mother, who was looking up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

"Why did Geneviève just slap you?"

"Uh." Draco fumbled for a plausible explanation. "She said that it was rude of me to have not yet asked you to be my date for the ball."

"Oh?" Narcissa looked as though she wanted to be convinced by his explanation but was having some difficulty.

"Yes, you know how the French are: slap, slap, kiss, kiss ..." He paused and cleared his throat somewhat nervously. "So, would you like to go to the Christmas Ball with me—uh—Narcissa?"

"I'd love to, Drago!" she accepted with a bright smile.

"Marvellous," he returned dryly with a feigned smile, as Narcissa leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek before she left the library to tell all her girlfriends who her date for the Christmas Ball was.

Draco turned around to glare at Ginny, who only offered him a sheepish grin.

"Alright, Weasley, fill me in on this plan of yours." He looked at her gravely. "All I can say is that it sure as hell had better work."

**-x-**

After the rather embarrassing incident in the library, Draco and Ginny had managed to make their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ginny tried her best not to make eye contact with Draco whom she knew was staring at her. She figured that he wanted to kill her, and he had every right. Ginny thought by saying yes to Lucius she could artfully set Plan B into motion à la _Back to the Future_, but there was no guarantees. She could have denied Lucius and went to the ball with Draco, but this would have only spurned the Slytherin alpha male on, as earlier demonstrated by Plan A. What she needed to do now was to start directing Lucius's attention away from her and towards Narcissa—but how?

The blonde in question was seated next to her, chatting rather animatedly with her girlfriends about Draco. Ginny knew that Narcissa's voiced obsession over Draco would pique Lucius's interest, especially if Ginny made it seem as though Cissa had won Draco from her. It was all about the male ego. Draco (aka Lucius's arch nemesis) had previously shown an interest in Ginny (aka the Beauxbatons prize). Lucius wanted to win said prize merely to take it away from his arch nemesis. If Draco no longer wanted to compete for the aforementioned prize and had, instead, claimed another one—one even more valuable—then Lucius's attention would be diverted elsewhere. Basically, Ginny wanted Draco to dangle a much more expensive and highly sought after item in front of Lucius's nose—that item being Narcissa Black.

Ginny supposed that she should have explained this in her letter to Draco, but she was afraid of it somehow being intercepted. She had thought that he wouldn't take the news kindly; however, in the library he did seem more calm and rational than she had expected him. When Narcissa had finally left and Ginny was able to sit down with Draco to explain everything, he seemed somewhat placated—that is until she began to fill him in on the specifics of the second phase of Plan B—the part that involved him trying to take advantage of his mother. That information made him rather nauseated. Unfortunately, before she could go into further detail, the first phase of Plan B—the one that involved the lead up to ball and how they planned to get Lucius to notice Narcissa—they had been rudely ushered out of the library and forced to go to breakfast.

So Ginny and Draco went to the Great Hall and took their respective seats at their opposing tables. Both secretively stole glances at one another as they contemplated Plan B: Draco silently cursing Ginny's very existence, and Ginny trying desperately to think of a way to reclaim her Gryffindor honour.

**-x-**

Dumbledore had called Draco and Ginny into his office later that day. Both could hardly contain their curiosity. The headmaster had not talked to them for over a month. A month was the amount of time that the aged wizard said he would need in order to research and experiment on their Time-Turner. Hopefully, he had discovered a solution to their problem and could send them back home. Hopefully.

"I do believe I have it figured out," Dumbledore announced as he sat back in his chair behind his desk, smiling at the two 'exchange students' who sat in front of him.

Ginny smiled brightly and turned to look at Draco, who was eyeing the headmaster sceptically.

"But?" Draco asked with slight raise of his palm ash he shrugged his shoulders forward. Draco, being the persistent pessimist, was obviously unconvinced that everything was all fixed now. Rarely did anything go according to plan concerning Draco and his wants.

"_But_—" Dumbledore's smile seemed to widen at this "—it should be tested on a small scale before the both of you take off twenty years into the future."

The headmaster's answer caused Draco to smirk somewhat triumphantly while Ginny frowned.

"What happened to 'there are ways to test without having to use a human subject'?" Draco asked with a mixture of sarcasm and bitterness.

"You misunderstood me, Draco," Dumbledore answered without pause, a smile still on his lips. "It _was_ tested without human experimentation and, for all intents and purposes, it is fixed. I just figured that it would be rather fun to take it out for a test spin."

Draco rolled his eyes. So, it didn't _need_ to be tested on a human; Dumbledore just wanted to 'try it out'.

"I'll do it, Headmaster," Ginny stated determinedly, shocking both Dumbledore and Draco. However, Draco looked a bit more disgusted than surprised.

"That is very brave of you, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, sounding somewhat impressed.

"Not this Gryffindor 'courage' rubbish," Draco scoffed as he turned his back to Ginny. "Honestly, Weasley, let's just call it what it is: stupidity."

Ginny turned around on her chair to stare pointedly at the blond, who had his back to her. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was looking extremely irritated.

"I'll have you know that I am offering because I am trying to make up for everything that I have done wrong!" she shouted, affronted by Draco's inability to acknowledge the sacrifice that she was willing to make.

"As you should," he remarked flippantly over his shoulder, and Ginny gripped the armrests of her chair until her knuckles turned white.

"You're one to talk!" she roared back at him, unable to halt her temper. "Have you made up for what you did in your sixth year—?"

"Enough!" Dumbledore's deep voice cut through, ringing in their ears. "What did I tell you about revealing the future?" The headmaster then turned to Ginny, offering her his most reassuring smile, but his rheumatic blue eyes were still stern. "There is no need to worry about locating a human subject. _I_ will be the one testing it out in two weeks' time."

Draco abruptly turned around on his seat to glance up at the older wizard. "Merlin no! You mean we will be here for the—"

"Ball?" Ginny supplied, causing Draco to glare.

"Thank you for finishing my sentence, Weasley," he snapped with obvious sarcasm, and Ginny dramatically rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you will be here for the Christmas Ball," Dumbledore confirmed. "I do believe that the both of you have some wrongs to right." He smiled at them in a knowing way—the way Santa Claus would if you had stated that you had been nice the entire year when you, in fact, hadn't.

"How did you—?" Draco found himself asking the question without realising it; however, he abruptly cut himself off and looked down at his hands, scowling.

Dumbledore's smile predictably widened. "I told you I'd be watching you both."

**-x-**

Draco barged his way out of Dumbledore's office, almost stepping over the Weasley girl, who had quickly become the bane of his existence. Why—why did she have to be such a Gryffindor? Was all that bravado necessary? She was willing to sacrifice herself to some stupid experiment so that _he_ could get home safely? Who was she trying to fool? Certainly not him. She was just trying to make him feel guilty or attempting to make him forget that _she_ was the reason he was in this mess to begin with. No, he could not be easily swayed. He was not built to allow a woman to walk all over him and do with him what she pleased.

Honestly, who did she think she was? This ruddy little runt of a girl had managed to take him back into the past with her, date his father, and then throw his mother onto his lap. It was some nightmarish reverse Oedipus scene from hell. And she thought she could fix it all and put a bandage on his very real woes by offering her services as a human guinea pig? Stupid, foolish, obstinate Gryffindor!

Just then, Ginny walked past him with her head held high, taking off in the opposite direction. Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Why was he working himself up over the conversation that had taken place in Dumbledore's office? Why did it matter that she was willing to sacrifice herself to test out the stupid Time-Turner? Why did it bother the hell out of him? Why? Well, it didn't matter. She wasn't testing the damnable thing out anyway.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he felt two slender arms encircle his waist and a pointed chin dig into his back. He smelled a subtle hint of jasmine and a perfume that he couldn't quite name.

_Weasley?_ Draco abruptly shook his head. _No, she just went to the Entrance Hall stairs. Plus, she smells like strawberries._ He visibly blanched. _Wait, how do I know what she smells like? Argh, this is ridiculous!_ Draco turned around and saw that it wasn't the Weaselette and, for once, he was disappointed.

"Hello, Drago!" the owner of the hands greeted as she stepped out from behind and offered him a sweet smile.

"Good afternoon, Narcissa," Draco greeted through gritted teeth, feeling his stomach begin to churn.

His mother was a rather touchy-feely person in her youth, apparently, unlike the cold exterior that she would later adopt in her adult years. Lucky for Draco that he got to experience his mother's flirty side. Yes, lucky.

"So, I wanted to ask you," Narcissa began in a tone that made Draco want to take off in a sprint down the hallway, screaming. "What colours will you be wearing to the ball?" She scrunched up her nose in distaste. "I do hope it won't be those awful Gryffindor colours. You see, I prefer green or silver."

"I will wear black or white," Draco answered mechanically, hoping that his mother would just leave.

"Excellent." Narcissa clasped her hands together in glee. "I simply cannot wait. Only less than two weeks to go. Aren't you excited?" She grabbed his arm and squeezed it, dragging him down the hall with her.

"Very."

At that moment Lucius came out of a classroom and looked directly at them. Draco figured this was his chance and he had to react quickly. Fighting back the revulsion he felt in the pit of his stomach, and the voices that screamed in his head—telling him that it was wrong wrong WRONG—Draco leaned down and gave Narcissa a quick peck on the lips. Before he could pull away, however, his mother had grabbed his cheeks and yanked his face downwards for a full kiss.

_Tongue! Dear Merlin, no! Mother tongue!_

Draco finally drew away. It took all of his willpower not to fall into a crumbled heap on the floor and cry more womanly than thought possible. Instead, he inclined his head to Narcissa and muttered something about Quidditch practice. He then half-sprinted down the hall to head towards the Gryffindor Tower, determined to brush his lips and tongue raw with his toothbrush.

Narcissa grinned foolishly to herself and waved at Draco's retreating form as she made her way towards her own room. It was then that Lucius, who looked down at her rather condescendingly, stopped her.

"I expected a Black to have better taste," he remarked, smacking his lips in disapproval. "I suppose you take after your cousin, Sirius."

"I'm afraid you speak of matters that you are not educated on, Lucius," Narcissa spoke, and then lifted her chin in such a manner that only seemed to infuriate the tall blond.

"Is that so?" Lucius asked waspishly, annoyed with the younger Slytherin. Yet he still walked beside her, unwilling to travel in any other direction.

"I have no time or use for games, Lucius," Narcissa explained impatiently; she stopped to turn around, issuing him a haughty look. "If you hope to intimidate me or dissuade me from going to the ball with Drago, you will be deeply disappointed."

She offered him a thin smile, one that conveyed arrogance and confidence, and Lucius looked somewhat taken aback.

"Narcissa, I do apologise for my presumptuousness, I—"

"No, Lucius, I apologise for my impertinence—for interrupting your well-crafted speech." Narcissa sneered and then tossed her hair over her shoulder before walking off ahead of him. "However, I must be off to my room so that I can change for my next class."

Lucius stared at the retreating blonde, looking utterly dumbfounded. Just around the corner stood Ginny, covering her mouth with her hand and smirking into it with glee. Maybe her plan would work after all.

**-x-**

Ginny sat in silence while she ate her dinner. Lucius was seated next to her, portraying his role as the dominant alpha male and possessive boyfriend, but his attention was fixed on the tall blonde who sat across from Ginny, of which the former redhead was glad. Ginny had quickly realised that any time she showed interest in Draco, Lucius would step up his game and be even more possessive. Now that Draco appeared to be showing interest in Narcissa so was Lucius.

Ginny was no mastermind or diabolical schemer, but figuring out how teenage boys' minds worked was rather simple. So long as Ginny kept her distance from both blonds, Lucius would keep his hands to himself. Although she had to admit that Lucius was a gentleman, through-and-through, and while Draco wasn't as suave as his father, he had potential. In fact, Ginny was beginning to see all of the positive traits of Lucius in Draco and almost none of the negative.

She stabbed at her salad with her fork and sighed. She had begun dwelling on Draco again. What was wrong with her? The aquiline blond had begun to invade her every thought as of late, and it was annoying. What was so special about this boy? Nothing. It wasn't like he was Harry—

_Oh, Harry._

Ginny suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She had almost forgot about Harry—the boyfriend who was waiting for her in the future. _Harry_ was her boyfriend—not Lucius or Draco. Harry. Yes, she had to convince herself of that. So why did the mentioning of Harry only make her feel guilty like she had cheated on him in some way? So she had kissed Lucius. That wasn't really cheating—okay, maybe it was. But it wasn't her brief fling with Lucius that made her feel remorse. What made Ginny feel culpable was that she no longer felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw Lucius or thought of Harry. No longer did those two boys stir feelings of love or adoration in her. Now all she looked forward to was arguing with Draco. How sick was that? And how could seeing Draco make her feel nervous, angry, and excited all at once?

_Oh Merlin, no!_ Ginny cried in sudden realisation, closing her eyes. _I'm infatuated with Draco Malfoy!_

Yeah, Ginny's life wasn't complicated at all.

**-x-**

Draco looked over at the Slytherin table and saw his mother making moon-eyes at him. His spoon trembled as he dipped it into the soup bowl. He suddenly didn't feel so hungry anymore, and he let his spoon clatter onto the table. He glanced past his mother to see the Weasley girl with her eyes closed as if in pain. She opened them and looked directly at him and then quickly turned her face away and ... blushed?

Why in Merlin's name was Ginevra Weasley blushing? He had never known the girl to be incredibly bashful. Of course, he had never really known the girl at all until this term. She was a contradictory creature, like most women; however, there was just something about her. Most of the time he wanted to reach out and throttle her little neck; other times he enjoyed a playful banter with her (as she was incredibly easy to rile up); and sometimes he just wanted to grab her and shut her up by crushing his lips against hers.

Wait-a-sec—did he just think that? Did he just imagine kissing the Weasley girl?

Draco closed his eyes and brought a forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose. He had considered owling the Weasley girl to arrange another meeting, but he was somewhat hesitant to do so—to meet her again, that is. He could not stop thinking about what he had almost done on the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. He had almost kissed her, and it wasn't just because he wanted to get his father jealous so that he'd stop dating her. As much as Draco wanted to convince himself that he did it all to preserve his existence (and that was the majority of his reasoning), he had to admit that he wanted to kiss the Weasley girl. He, Draco Malfoy, found Ginevra Weasley attractive enough to kiss! The gods were sick, twisted, and cruel.

Out of nowhere, Draco received a sharp elbow to the ribs. He grunted, giving the offender the most scathing look possible. It was Sirius (of course). He merely grinned at Draco's scowl.

"Would you stop checking out my cousin!" he reprimanded with that impudent yet cheeky look on his dark face.

"I am not!" Draco countered, not only insulted by Sirius accusation but also disgusted.

"It's okay. I think you'd do her some good, German," Sirius said with a good-natured grin, and Draco's scowl deepened.

Why, why did these fifth-years have to sit near him?

Just then, an owl swooped down and dropped a letter into Draco's hands. He frowned. _Gods, is Mother sending me love notes now?_

He looked over at the Slytherin table to see his mother had turned around to frown at him while his father stole glances. The Weasley girl was looking up at him slyly through her lashes, and Draco glanced back down at the letter, immediately tearing it open.

_D,_

_We need to meet again to discuss Plan B. Do you think you can disentangle yourself from your groupies to meet me tomorrow morning before class, in front of Potions?_

_- G_

Draco looked up and nodded, acknowledging the letter and her terms to meet. The Weasley girl then gave a serious nod back and returned to the contents of her plate; however, Draco could see the faintest outline of a smile on her lips, and he could not help but smirk triumphantly.

_She thinks about me too—_

"Oi, Drago, what are you grinning about?" James asked, stirring Draco from his thoughts.

"I, uh." Draco fumbled for words, embarrassed that he had been caught staring and grinning at the Weasley girl. He turned to look out the large doors of the Great Hall to see Evans and Snape standing outside, talking animatedly. "I'm watching your girlfriend flirt with Snape," Draco answered with a raised eyebrow, grinning even more widely.

James's jaw dropped. They all watched as Lily and Severus parted ways—she seating herself at the Gryffindor table while Snape began settling down at Slytherin.

"Evans, what was _that_ about?" James asked, looking somewhat affronted. "Was Snivellus asking you out on a date?"

"No, actually I was," Lily answered with a smile as she sat beside one of her girlfriends, Mary. "I asked him to go to the Christmas Ball with me."

James's face fell, and Sirius clasped a hand onto his best mate's shoulder.

"What the bloody hell is going on with Gryffindors asking Slytherins to be their dates?" James asked out of desperation.

"Disgusting, innit?" Sirius responded with a laugh, looking directly at Draco, who only scowled and shook his head.

**-x- **

Draco managed to drag his arse out of bed at the crack of dawn—again. It reminded him of how he used to get up early for Quidditch practice. He wasn't going out flying though (thank Merlin, it was 0'C outside). No, he was going to meet with the Weasley girl to discuss her undoubtedly ingenious plan. He wondered how much she had improved upon it. Maybe now her plan was for him to flirt with his father. If his mother issues didn't have him in therapy for the rest of his life, being forced to kiss his father would certainly scar him beyond repair.

Draco stretched and ambled his way towards the showers. As he stood underneath the nozzle, feeling the hot water kneed and caress his skin, he tilted his head back and ran his hands through his wet, white-blond hair. He brought the soapy loofah to his chest and began to wash his upper body, absently wondering whether he preferred the Weasley girl as a blonde or as a redhead. She was rather attractive with long, curly blonde hair, pale skin (sans freckles), and sea-green eyes, but as pretty as that look may have been, it didn't quite suit her. It wasn't natural enough. Now the fiery red hair matched her temper, and the freckles only made her look more street-urchin like—not that he preferred the ruddy, poor Weasley look. Or maybe he did.

_Why the hell am I comparing the Weasley girl's hairstyles?_ Draco groaned aloud. Well, at least he wasn't waxing prose about her eyes this time.

Draco let out a deep sigh and stepped out of the showers. He grabbed his towel and began to dry off his face. He had to put an end to these ridiculous daydreams. He had to end this affinity he seemed to have developed for the Weasley girl. She was nothing but trouble—trouble that he didn't want any part of.

After dressing and fixing his hair in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, he made his way out the portrait door and down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. He then took the other set of stairs and descended into the dungeons.

"Wotcho doin' 'ere?" a raspy voice called, and Draco turned his head to scowl at the caretaker.

"I'm going to class," he remarked flippantly, but Argus Filch would have none of this.

"Class isn't fer another hour. Yeh get back to the Great Hall or it'll be detention fer yeh," he warned, but Draco was not one to be easily intimidated.

"Why you nosy, old codger!" Draco roared back, annoyed with the rank, old Squib. "I have every right to go to class. You cannot tell me where to go, you filthy Sq—"

"Drago!" a voice shouted vehemently, and Draco turned.

"What?" he asked acridly, seeing the Weasley girl walk up from behind and stand beside him.

"Apologise to him," Ginny commanded, and Draco scoffed. "I am zorry, Monsieur Filch." She turned to the caretaker and offered him an apologetic smile. "We were supposed to meet e'rly for Potions. Professor Slug'orn 'as given us pair-mish-un."

Filch's face softened somewhat considerably when he saw Ginny, but he still eyed Draco warily. "Oh, a'right then, Miss Belette," he complied, allowing the two to pass.

Ginny smiled thankfully and then turned to narrow her eyes on Draco. "Drago?" She pointed to Filch.

"I'm not going to—" Draco felt the Weasley girl elbow him in his side, and he growled. He was growing soft, letting this little runt push him around. "Fine. I'm sorry I yelled at you," he apologised lamely.

Filch didn't look convinced, but he let the ghost of a smile adorn his lips as he regarded Ginny. "Yer lucky yeh 'ave Miss Belette 'ere," he said as the turned to head off back up the stairs.

"Yes, very fortunate," Draco remarked facetiously as he looked down at the Weasley girl, who was waving to the caretaker.

"Au revoir!" she called, and Filch graced her with a wave, which made the girl giggle somewhat triumphantly.

Draco grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Now it was his turn to manhandle her. "What was that all about?"

Ginny tugged her arm back but was still smiling. "He likes me. I'm nice to him."

Draco dropped his hand. "You're nice to everyone. A little _too_ nice, if you ask me."

"Yes, well, no one's asking you. "Ginny stuck out her tongue. "And you need to learn to be nicer."

Draco's mouth formed into a half-grin and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have you not seen me holding back from hexing those Marauders?"

Ginny snorted. "Yes, I have. Very admirable of you."

Draco lowered his arms and sighed. "So, what is this plan, Weasley? You already told me what I have to try to do with—with my mother." He already felt the bile rise to his throat.

The Weasley girl directed him to one of the benches outside of Potions and began to go into detail about what Draco had to do before the ball and during, most of which involved flirting with his mother, showing her affection and the like. Meanwhile, Ginny would act clingy towards Lucius and talk about marriage—anything to drive him off.

"That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard," Draco finally stated after listening to her go on for about forty-five minutes.

"Why can't you just keep an open mind?" she asked, exasperated, standing up to pace.

"I would if your ideas were remotely feasible and not as disturbing as hell," he retorted, looking both smug and defeated—if that were even possible.

"Merlin's left nut!" Ginny cursed, folding her arms beneath her breasts. "You are such an infuriating boy." Just then, her Weasley temper finally kicked in and she pushed him while he was seated on the bench. Pushed him!

Draco leapt to his feet and shoved her back. "I swear, Weasley—"

"You swear _what_, Malfoy?" she repeated, antagonising him. Her tiny fingers were digging into his shoulder as she violently pushed him back—again.

He caught her by the wrists and pulled her into him with a hard, swift motion, knocking her body into his.

"Weasley—" he held her hands above her head "—you _will_ control your emotions and curb your temper." His tone was laced with anger and he breathed heavily, staring down into her almond-shaped eyes.

"Or else, _what_?" she spat, inadvertently pressing herself up against him, causing his body to react. "You're going to punish me?"

Draco growled. "I will—"

Suddenly, Draco felt himself being thrown back and pinned against the wall. The Weasley girl had his hands behind his back and was pushing herself against him with such force, to prevent him from moving, that he could feel every contour of her body. He could even feel her heart beat in her chest against his stomach.

She gave him a cocky grin and tightened her grip. "Where's your bravado now—?"

Draco freed his hands and whipped her around, slamming her back into the door, wedging a knee between her legs as he raised her hands high above her head once more, assuaging his frustrations against her body. He had no idea what made him do this—what notion or reason he had in rubbing himself against this girl. He must be going insane.

"You were saying, Weasley?" he said breathlessly, giving her his most patented Malfoy smirk.

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Make me," he retorted, looking down at her chest, watching it rise and fall.

Suddenly, a blur of pink rushed at his face and Ginny's hands reached out to grab his pale cheeks, bringing his lips down to hers. It took a moment for him to register what was happening: Ginny Weasley was kissing him! After what seemed like an eternity of hesitation, Draco finally gave in and returned her kiss with surpassing vigour. He brought one hand to her waist and picked her up to press against her while his other hand tangled in her thick hair, tilting her head back so that he could have better access to her lips.

"Perhaps you two would do better with a broom closet," a seemingly disembodied voice suggested out of nowhere.

They both sprang back, wiping at their lips in shock and searching for the owner of the voice. It turned out not to be a ghost but rather Severus Snape.

"You'd be less hindered by other students needing to get past you to enter the classroom that you have so ingeniously decided to display your nauseating tug-of-war display of sexual tension," Snape retorted dryly.

Ginny blushed a deep shade of pink and glanced past the younger Slytherin, looking for a crowd nearby. Draco searched too and noticed that, thankfully, it was just the three of them.

"Snape," he began, but the future Potions Master already had his wand drawn and was aiming it at Draco's head.

"Not _this_ time, Unglaub," he warned, and Draco raised his hands defensively, showing that he was unarmed. Snape lowered his wand but did not sheath it. Instead, he sneered at both Draco and Ginny as he walked past them into the classroom. "You can go back to vacillating on whether or not you're attracted to the Beauxbatons girl; however, I need to get to class, as will several more students in a minute or so."

Draco glanced at Ginny, who was looking extremely worried, chewing on her bottom lip. Draco let out a frustrated sigh and averted his gaze to the ground. What the bloody hell had possessed him to snog the Weasley girl in front of the Potions room? He had officially gone mental. The problem wasn't so much what he had done but that—Merlin help him—he wanted to do it again.

Footsteps fast approached and Draco looked up to see the Marauders ambling their way towards class. They were sleepily joking back-and-forth, but Sirius had a rather peculiar expression on his face. His head was tilted to the side as his eyes flickered back and forth between Draco and Ginny, studying them.

"Well, well," Sirius began with a slow, derisive drawl as he sauntered towards the pair with his hands in his trouser pockets. "Now, isn't this—"

"Not a word, Black," Draco interrupted with a raised hand before storming past the bewildered fifth-years and leaving a blushing Ginny behind. "Not. A. Word."

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** So now that you know what Plan B is, do you figure that it will fare better than Plan A? Remember, I am only stealing _some_ aspects of Back to the Future, not all. ^_~ (Oh, and the line "Great Scott!", spoken by Dumbledore, will be coming up soon).

Next chapter will be the Christmas Ball. Are you excited? I am. It should be rather ... interesting.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Cissa, excusez-nous un moment, s'il vous plaît_ = Cissa, excuse us for a moment, if you please


	9. Put Your Frock On And Shut It

**Chapter 9 – Put Your Frock On And Shut It**

"It's time to go home, Miss Weasley," a voice called out through the fog in Ginny's mind.

Startled, she spun around, trying to put a face to the voice. She had been so distracted lately that she couldn't even concentrate on someone who was talking to her.

"It's time to go home, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore repeated; his rheumatic blue eyes twinkled in the twilight. He extended his arm and brought his long, slender fingers forward, revealing the white-gold chain of a pocket watch.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Ginny whispered, smiling shyly as she held out her hand to take the proffered Time-Turner.

"You're welcome." He winked.

"Don't forget me," a voice drawled lazily from behind, and Ginny turned to see Draco with his hands entrenched in his pockets, sauntering towards her.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to do that—" she rolled her eyes "—to leave you here with the Marauders and all your adoring fans."

"My admirers of the past will have to live without me. I must attend to those of the present," he stated smoothly in that low, spine-tingly voice of his.

The corners of his lips curved upwards into the most charming, heart-melting grin, and he reached down to pluck the watch from her hand. He then gently placed the long, golden chain around both of their necks, forcing them to stand nose-to-nose (well, nose-to-chin in her case). His eyes were smouldering, a dark shade of grey. His gaze was intense, and she began to fidget nervously.

Where had Dumbledore gone?

"Don't forget to turn the small dial three times—counter-clockwise—and the large dial twice—clockwise," the headmaster called out to them, having already made his way back towards the school.

How did he move so fast, and how could she see him so clearly from the lake?

"Ready, Ginny?" Draco asked, managing to stand even closer to her, fiddling with the dials as Dumbledore had instructed.

She could feel the heat emanating off his body in waves—and her own for that matter. She was beginning to feel light-headed, and they hadn't even begun to time travel yet. The scent of his cologne invaded her nostrils, and she couldn't think to question why he had called her 'Ginny'. He never called her that.

"I ..." She paused and swallowed hard. "Yes, I'm ready. Let's go home."

Draco let go of the Time-Turner, allowing it to dangle between them. He looked down at her, smiling—the smallest dimple forming in his right cheek. She had never seen him smile before, genuinely smile. He was so devastatingly handsome when he did that.

"We can't go yet," he said, and her eyes grew wide. His smile only intensified with her shock. "We have one last thing to do."

She knitted her brow in confusion, trying to figure out what else they needed to do in order to go home. Professor Dumbledore had not left them any other instruction.

"What do we have to do?" she asked, knowing that she must look as frightened as she sounded.

"This," Draco replied as he reached forward to cup her cheeks with his pale hands.

The lips that descended on hers were, at first, cool-to-the-touch, but they heated the moment the inner part of his bottom lip met with her top. Then she felt the familiar electricity ignite within her. His thumbs circled her cheeks, keeping rhythm with the hot tongue that darted past her lips, duelling her own with a primitive art. She hadn't even realised that he had drawn all the air from her lungs until he let go and stood back, allowing her to breathe once more. Her eyelashes languidly fluttered open to reveal spots of light that burst in front of her vision like falling stars. She was more light-headed now than she had been before.

"Draco," she whispered in a moan, her vision finally beginning to focus on the most beautiful man she had come to know.

"Draco?" the man asked with open contempt, suddenly holding her back with strong arms, causing her to stumble backwards in his embrace.

She looked up. He had the same eyes, the same colour of hair, but it was long. No! It was no longer short, tousled, and perfect. It wasn't ... _him_.

"Lucius?" Ginny gasped. What was she doing with him? She was supposed to be going back to her time with Draco, not his father.

Ginny twisted out of his grasp, and then fell forward onto her hands and knees, causing the chain around her neck to snap in two.

"Gin, please, let me help you up," a soft voice offered, and Ginny began to tremble as she turned herself over onto her back, meeting green eyes instead of grey.

"Harry?" She could feel the tears well up and begin to slide down her cheeks.

What was going on?

Harry, with his unkempt brown hair and deep green eyes, was looking down at her with sympathy. His hand was still outstretched, waiting for her to take it.

"I wouldn't offer if I were you," a voice said from behind, and Ginny turned to see Lucius looming over her. "She'll only let you help her up so that she can go waltzing off into the arms of another."

"That's not true!" she cried feebly, rising back up onto her knees.

"No?" another voice asked, and this time she saw Draco shoving his fists into his pockets as he bent down to look her straight in the eyes. "You hopped from Potter to my father and now to me." His eyes were dark and menacing. "Ginevra, when will this dance ever end?"

She looked down, defeated. The Time-Turner began to spin in place.

"You have to choose," Draco ordered. Lucius was standing on his right while Harry was on his left. "Which one of us are you going to take back with you, Ginevra?"

The Time-Turner began to hum loudly now, spinning wildly out of control. Ginny closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears and began to scream. She screamed until she could no longer hear the sound of her own voice—could no longer hear the echoes of her own mistakes.

Suddenly, Ginny woke up in a cold sweat. She brought a hand to her fast beating heart. It was a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't just that. It was her conscience—her guilty conscience revealing her sins.

She sat up in bed and brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. Tilting her head to the side, she glanced up at the clock. It was only noon. Earlier that morning she had reported to Professor Slughorn that she was too ill to attend classes and then went directly to her room to sleep. She just couldn't bear the thought of being in the same room with Draco Malfoy. She had kissed him in front of the Potions room! He hadn't tricked her; it wasn't an accident. In fact, she provoked him. She had _wanted_ to kiss him.

What was wrong with her? She was a Gryffindor; she was supposed to be dating Harry Potter. Since she had come to this time, however, she had done nothing but cheat. She had become selfish and allowed herself to be taken in by her desires. She wanted Lucius Malfoy because he wanted her, and for some reason she thought that this was okay. Ginny knew that she was cheating on Harry, but that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was knowing how easy it was for her; the worst part was feeling no guilt over what she had done; the worst part was realising that what she thought was love had never been love to begin with.

Her life, like the Time-Turner, was spiralling out of control. But what Ginny Weasley had failed to realise was that she was human, and humans err. And love—love was just trial and error.

**-x-**

Draco paced the length of his room for the umpteenth time that afternoon. He had skipped all of his classes that morning, giving the excuse that he was ill. The truth was that he couldn't bring himself to face Weasley again, not after what had happened earlier that morning.

He turned to his window and curled his hands into fists. He was furious, with Weasley and himself. He had let her take control and seduce him; had let his deranged and irrational pent-up sexual frustrations build up and take hold of him. He had thought, for the briefest of moments, that he might have actually begun to like the girl and see something in her that he had never imagined to find: a kindred spirit. But that was all just hormones talking—or so he thought.

A loud knock sounded on the door and Draco turned, releasing his fists and his anger. He had to rid this girl from his thoughts entirely. She wasn't worth the hassle. She was a confused girl who didn't know what or _who_ she wanted.

_Forget her._

"Yes?" Draco answered, clearing his throat. He smoothed out his vest and trousers before blanking his facial expression completely.

"It is Professor McGonagall, Mister Unglaub. May I enter?"

The Transfiguration professor did not wait for an answer; she opened the door and promptly stepped inside his room. She stood in front of his door with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her torso, examining him with keen eyes.

"I missed you in class today," she commented dryly, as if discussing the weather.

"I am not feeling well," Draco stated, lying effortlessly.

The old witch arched an eyebrow in scepticism. "Yes, I can see that," she said tersely, closing the door behind her. "I do not normally give house calls to students."

Draco's expression was deadpan. "I'm honoured to be an exception."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrow twitched as she pursed her lips together to form a wry sort of grin. "I heard there was an incident before class, in the dungeons."

Draco rolled his eyes, having an inkling of who might have told her about what had happened. "Black has a tendency to exaggerate."

"It wasn't Mister Black who told me," Professor McGonagall said with formality. "It was the caretaker, Mister Filch."

"Yes, well—" Draco sneered, turning his back to her "—he is not exactly known to paint students in the most positive light."

"Perhaps," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders, "but he had plenty of positive things to say about Miss Belette."

Draco let out a strangled sound, like he was trying to huff and growl at the same time. "Well, isn't _she_ special?"

Professor McGonagall took in a deep breath. "I am not here to discuss what happened—"

"Nothing happened," Draco interjected, his blood boiling. Had the rumour already circulated the entire school?

"Regardless, Mister Malfoy, I am not here to talk about what may or may not have happened."

"Then, please, Professor," Draco began impatiently, folding his arms across his chest, "tell me why you are here."

The old witch unclasped her hands and took a step forward. "You cannot hope to avoid your problems by feigning illness."

Draco opened his mouth to protest. "Professor—"

"Drago—May I call you 'Drago'?"

Draco gave a curt nod of acceptance, before scowling.

"You are an astute young man, full of great potential, but you lock yourself up away from your problems and away from the friends whom surround you." She gave him a look that was a mixture of exasperation and concern.

Draco let out an undignified snort. "So you came here to give me a pep talk, then?"

Professor McGonagall frowned and shook her head, turning away. "You are in Gryffindor, Drago—act like it!" Her tone left no room for dispute. "Interact with your housemates, be a part of a team. You might even find that you like it here." She then opened the door and offered him a thin smile.

"Unlikely," Draco muttered.

He watched the professor leave and frowned. She had no idea what kind of problems he had, but it didn't matter because soon his problems would go away. Soon it would all be over.

**-x-**

The week leading up to the ball seemed to drag on as though time itself had decided to stand still, which was fitting since time seemed to be spiting both Draco and Ginny as of late. The two, in turn, had made it a point to ignore one another during the rest of their stay at Hogwarts, 1975. Neither could pretend to be sick until Dumbledore came to retrieve them—Professor McGonagall had seen to that—well, to Draco at least. She had made it her mission to get the cranky blond out of bed and out of his room. The Head of House hadn't come back to personally visit him, but she did send numerous owls and even the occasional Howler, which, incidentally, managed to be intercepted by Peter Pettigrew a few times. While Draco was entertained by Peter's ability to simultaneously jump six feet in the air and scream like a little girl, the ex-Slytherin knew that he couldn't hide in his room any longer, so he finally relented and went back to class.

Narcissa had been the one to convince Ginny to return to classes; however, the blonde wasn't just concerned for her housemate's welfare. She was also curious as to the reasons why Draco was absent. Of course when Draco returned to frequenting the Great Hall, Narcissa's spirits were lifted. Ginny's spirits should have been too, but whenever she saw Draco in class or in the halls she just felt awkward and nervous. It was quite obvious that he was still angry with her—whether it was over her and his father or the kiss that she and Draco shared, she was not sure.

Ginny had also noted Narcissa's increased interest in Draco, shadowing the brooding blond almost everywhere he went, including the one time she followed him directly into the boys' changing room. The zeal Narcissa put into her stalking efforts was impressive, if not unnerving. It also augured well for Ginny's plan because Narcissa's efforts had attracted Lucius's attention, and the tall blond seemed to go out of his way to speak with the younger Slytherin. It also boded ill, as it was quite evident that Narcissa was no longer infatuated with Lucius but with Draco.

Ginny was especially concerned because she felt that time wasn't unfolding as it should have been. Narcissa was obsessive with Draco, her own son, and Lucius was still fixated with Ginny, who grew colder and colder towards the silver-haired boy by the minute. It wasn't that she disliked Lucius. No, in fact she was still enamoured with him, but she had now begun to realise that it was purely infatuation and nothing else. She hoped that being cold towards him rather than being indifferent or doting would deter him. It had in some ways, and he did seem to be growing bored with chasing her, but Lucius wasn't known to give up so easily. She just needed to come up with more ways to drive him away from her and towards Narcissa. Ginny had to make things right for those two, but before she could do that she had to make things right between her and Draco.

Ginny didn't know if Draco was still going to adhere to their plan or not. Whatever the case might be, she still had to talk to him. So Ginny waited outside the Gryffindor boys' changing room, freezing her arse off. She knew that Draco still practised. He often did whatever he could to get out of the Gryffindor Tower—at least that is what she overheard him telling Narcissa one day in the library. After five agonising minutes, the blond finally emerged in his riding cloak with his broom in hand.

"Weasley!" Draco exclaimed with evident surprise as he stopped and stood in front of her.

The two were alone, save the howling wind and threatening storm clouds. Ginny looked up, entreating, while Draco stared at the ground, silently seething.

"Draco, can we talk?"

"_Draco_ is it now?" he asked scathingly. He turned his nose up at her and began to pick at the invisible lint on his cloak.

Ginny rolled her eyes, knowing perfectly well that Draco's haughty exterior was a vain attempt to mask his discomfort. They were not so unalike, she and Draco. She, too, would often use anger (instead of arrogance) as a means to deflect _her_ feelings of guilt or anxiety.

"I'd call you Malfoy, but you might assume that I have you confused with your father," she replied facetiously, but Draco refused to find any humour in her quip.

"What is it, Weasley?" he asked, setting his broom down in the snow and staring pointedly at her.

"I ..." She paused and began to nervously fumble with the clasp on her cloak. "I want to apologise."

Draco lowered his head. "For what—" his lips twitched involuntarily "—are you dating my mother now?"

Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. "No, you git—" She stopped herself before she said something that she might regret. "I want to apologise for everything."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Everything?"

She nodded. "I am the reason that we are here trapped in this time."

They exchanged an awkward silence, both staring each other down for Merlin knows what purpose. Draco seemed to be searching her eyes for truth, to see if she was serious in her claim. She met his gaze unwaveringly, and he frowned.

He brought a gloved hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. "I agree."

"I'm sorry," she whispered ashamedly, glancing back and forth from his eyes to the ground.

Draco gripped the neck of the broom tightly and shook his head. "I ..." He paused, seeming to struggle to find the words. "I think I might have helped a bit with that—with us coming here."

Ginny just stood still for a moment, stonewalled, and then turned around to follow him. Had he just admitted to being partly to blame for their predicament? Draco stared at her, seeing the look of shock on her face and shook his head even more vehemently. He cursed under his breath and strode past her with surprising speed.

"No!" Ginny called out, trying to keep pace with him. "I was going to activate the thing with you there or not."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. "Why?"

Ginny bumped into him and cried out. She was about to fall back when he turned around and caught her by the arm, steadying her. Once she regained her footing, he abruptly let go.

"What were you planning on doing?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Ginny lowered her head and wrung her hands. "I wanted to go back to the battle at Hogwarts," she whispered, her voice barely lifting above the cry of the wind.

"The Battle of Hogwarts?" Draco furrowed his brow and shrugged. "Why—what for?"

Ginny's bottom lip began to tremble, and she raised her eyes to meet his. "I wanted to s-save ..." She hiccupped, trying to finish the sentence before she dissolved into tears. "I-I w-wanted to—"

Ginny couldn't hold it in any longer. She found all her courage escape her when she looked up in Draco's eyes. The tears came freely and they came hard, and so did her centre of gravity. She fell unceremoniously into Draco's chest, and he caught her with alarm. It was instinctual, to fall onto another for support, but Draco was unaccustomed to such closeness. He didn't know what to do, so he awkwardly patted her on the back.

"Er, there, there, Weasley," he said as he ungracefully held her small body against his. He looked away, trying to find an invisible spot on the ground to stare at.

Just then, snow began to fall from the sky, littering the couple's heads. The two stood, embracing each other awkwardly, amid the backdrop of a white blanket of snow. After what seemed like an eternity, Ginny drew away.

"I'm sorry," she apologised sheepishly, stepping back. She wiped at her nose with her gloved hands.

Draco also took a step back and cleared his throat, looking rather uncomfortable. "Quit saying that," he said, agitated, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "It sounds so unnatural coming from you—especially since you're saying it to me." He tried to offer her grin, but it came off as a grimace.

"I'm so—" Ginny began and then cut herself off, letting out another hiccup as she shook her head. "I came back to change something for the better in _my_ life, but I ended up messing with yours." She glanced up at him with her large, round eyes still brimming with tears, looking dreadfully pathetic.

"Yes, you did," Draco agreed nonchalantly, and Ginny let out a bitter laugh.

"Thanks," she said, wiping her gloved hand across her nose again.

Draco picked up his broom and tapped it against his boot. "What do you want me to say, Weasley?" He took in a deep breath before meeting her eyes. "I don't blame you for taking us both back into the past." He directed his gaze to the sky, as if addressing the heavens, and let his shoulders sag in defeat. "That was an accident, and as much as you want to place full blame on yourself—and as much as I am _willing_ to let you—it's not entirely your fault."

Ginny opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure of how to respond. She was utterly shocked. Draco had not only lifted part of her guilt for their current predicament, but he had also taken on some of it himself. This was not the slimy git that she knew back at Hogwarts. This was Draco, Draco Malfoy, and Draco was more human than she ever imagined him to be.

"But you did make some pretty stupid choices when you got here," he added superciliously, looking down his nose at her.

Ginny let out a weak laugh. "I know," she agreed, silently thanking Draco for being more of what she expected him to be. Right now, she needed normalcy.

"You're bloody well dating my father!" he added with a maddening expression on his face as he lifted his broom and pointed it at her. "The same bloke who gave you a cursed diary, I might add."

"I know," Ginny agreed emphatically, bringing her hands to her face in embarrassment.

"And then you ended up pushing my mother towards me."

Ginny lowered her hands and looked up at him. "Hey, that wasn't my doing!"

Draco brought his broom back down onto the ground and leaned on it. "I thought you were taking full blame for everything."

Ginny scoffed. "Not for the reverse-Oedipus complex," she muttered and looked up to see Draco scowling at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied with a shake of his head.

Ginny's countenance softened, and she reached out to touch Draco's shoulder. He flinched, but he did not draw away.

"Malfoy," she began, looking up at him earnestly, "I want to make things right. I want to fix all of my mistakes with you—fix everything."

Draco knitted his brow in thought. "Everything?" he asked, sounding both sceptical and hesitant. Hesitant about what, she was not sure.

"Yes," she replied, nodding vigorously. "Everything that I have done while I have been here has just been one big mistake."

"I see," he said, dropping his shoulder so that Ginny was forced to remove her hand. "So how do you propose to fix this, Weasley? Plan B?"

"Yes." Ginny stood back and glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "I think it's time for Plan B."

Draco tilted his head back and looked back up into the white sky. "Weasley," he began, letting out a laboured sigh, "you might just be the death of me."

**-x-**

"Evans! Evans!"

"What, Potter?" Lily asked, letting out a soft growl.

The redhead turned to place a hand on her slender hip and waited impatiently for his answer. She had just finished getting ready for the ball and was about to exit through the common room when James accosted her.

"Evans, I just wanted to—" he began and then stopped, taking in the vision in front of him. "Wow, you look great."

Lily rolled her eyes and pushed past the brunet, smoothing her hand down the bodice of her navy blue dress.

"Where are you going?" James asked, following her.

Lily let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm going to go meet my date. Now, if you'll excuse me."

James grabbed the redhead by the arm and spun her around. "You're not seriously going with Snape!" He looked at her with wild eyes, and she returned his gaze with a murderous one.

Just then, the sound of someone clearing his throat broke up the couple's stare down, and Lily wrenched her arm free of James's grasp, shooting him a scathing look before she turned to regard her 'saviour'.

"Hey, Drago," Lily greeted, a little more brightly than she normally did (okay, a lot more brightly—she must have been relieved by Draco's interruption). "You look good."

And that he did. The blond was wearing formal robes, but they were cut in the Durmstrang fashion with a silver fur-lined collar and a jet-black exterior. It was more of a jacket than a robe. Underneath was a formal suit, but unlike anything that Draco had ever worn in the past. The suit was completely white—a colour he was not used to wearing—and its collar went all the way up his neck. It resembled a soldier's uniform in some ways. Silver buttons lined the jacket all the way up to his throat. It was form-fitting, showing off a slender but toned torso and chest. His hair was tousled and spiked up in a roguish fashion. He was quite fetching indeed, if he should say so himself.

"Thank you," Draco replied pompously, adjusting his collar, He saw the glint reflecting in the younger woman's eyes and he quickly recovered. "So do you, _Lily_."

The redhead's countenance brightened considerably. This was the first time Draco had ever called her by her first name. It was almost sweet, but she knew that he was just being polite. Still, his attitude was much better now than it had been three months ago.

"Heh, thanks," she said with a laugh, and they both turned towards the portrait door. "You nervous? I hear your date is Narcissa Black."

"Yes, our German heartthrob is taking my cousin to the ball," Sirius announced from behind a scowling James, who had given Lily one last pathetic look before he turned around to head back towards his room. Sirius watched him go and then smirked. "Jealous, Evans?"

Lily rolled her eyes at Sirius and gave Draco a sympathetic look. "Have fun, Drago. See you at the ball." She then disappeared out the portrait door, leaving Sirius and Draco alone.

"Don't get too comfortable tonight, German," Sirius said as he clapped his hand on Draco's back, making the blond wince. "We've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Draco asked suspiciously, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, it should be a good one." He turned around and went back to his room to get ready for the dance. "I'll see you later tonight."

"Marvellous," Draco said dryly as he straightened his collar again and exited the portrait door.

He made his way towards the Entrance Hall where he was to pick up his mother. Narcissa was already standing there, waiting, dressed in a white and silver gown with a plunging neckline. Her long, blonde hair was done up in curls and piled on top of her head in an elegant bun. Diamonds adorned her ears and neck and she smiled at Draco behind red lips and thick, black eyelashes.

"Narcissa, you look radiant," Draco complimented as he took her white-gloved hand in his and offered it a kiss.

He was justifiably uncomfortable doing this, but he was raised to be a gentleman and his mother did look pretty.

"Drago, you do embellish," Narcissa said with a slight blush that was very becoming on her. "You look exquisite yourself."

"Shall we go?" he asked, proffering her his arm.

The two made their way to the Great Hall, which was decorated in a winter wonderland theme: ice sculptures and intricately engraved ice sheets adorned every corner of the Great Hall, and large crystal snowflakes hovered in the air. Enchanted snow fell from the ceiling, never quite reaching the students' heads, giving the look of a magical snowstorm.

Once one took in the splendour of the decorations, it was a rather boisterous event with loud music and a multitude of refreshments. While the hall did appear to be partly divided between houses, there was some inter-house mingling. The students, themselves, all looked to be having a grand time—some drinking punch while others danced uninhibited and clumsily on the dance floor. Even Severus Snape attempted some awkward side-stepping motion with his date, Lily Evans, but soon gave up and decided that talking would be best.

Beside Snape and Evans, near the refreshment table, stood Lucius in an all-black suit. This was somewhat amusing to Draco since his father was the one who often wore white and silver, while he wore either black or grey. Now their roles had been reversed. Draco looked at his mother and grimaced. Perhaps it wasn't so much amusing as it was deeply disturbing.

Lucius turned to meet Draco's eyes, and from behind his father out walked Ginny with a drink in hand. Draco could not help but take in a sharp gasp of air. The Weasley girl looked stunning. She wore a long silk dress of a metallic green colour that highlighted her eyes. Instead of a plunging neckline, Ginny's dress went all the way up her throat and opened up at the back, down to the swell of her hips. She wore no jewellery and almost no discernible makeup, but what really caught Draco's attention was her hair. She had somehow manipulated the Glamour Charm to make her hair look red again. It fell down her back in loose waves, shimmering in the lamplights. It was more of a strawberry blonde now, but she almost looked like the girl that he knew back at Hogwarts. All she needed were the freckles. Draco found himself wanting to see those freckles again.

Wait, no he didn't. He shouldn't care what this girl looked like. He was just here to put their stupid bloody plan in motion, nothing else. He quickly averted his gaze, trying to appear indifferent. He turned his attention to the couples on the dance floor.

"Oh, Gin. You look gorgeous," Narcissa breathed, walking over to Ginny to give her a gentle hug and peck on both cheeks. "And your hair is red!"

"Thank you, Cissa," Ginny said with a blush, self-consciously touching at her hair. "You look beautiful."

Narcissa smiled elegantly at the compliment and returned to Draco's side. Feeling slightly sick, Draco looked down at his mother and offered her a thin smile.

"Drago," Ginny greeted, offering the cold blond a curt nod before she looked away in discomfort.

"Geneviève," Draco said, and then turned his attention to his father, who had his arm snaked around Ginny's waist. "Malfoy."

"Unglaub," Lucius returned with contempt; his grip tightened possessively around Ginny, who had cast her attention to the wall adjacent.

There was an icy pause, and Narcissa let out a small 'humph'.

"Boys," she commented with a roll of her eyes, unimpressed with the overt display of testosterone.

Draco breathed out through his nose and tried loosen up, allowing his shoulders to relax. He had not even noticed that his entire body had tensed the moment Lucius put his arm around Ginny.

Lucius let go of Ginny and turned to regard Narcissa. "You look enchanting this evening, Narcissa."

"Thank you, Lucius," the younger Slytherin said with a smile and then placed her hand on Draco's arm. "But enough with all these formalities. Come, Drago, let's dance."

Draco nodded and took his mother to the dance floor as the music began to start up. He looked over Narcissa's shoulder to see Ginny staring at him with a slight frown on her face.

_This had better work, Weasley_, he thought to himself as his mother snuggled into him. His eyes narrowed as he watched his father put his hand on Ginny's arm. _This had better damn well work!_

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** I had originally intended to make Plan B ten chapters long, but I have now decided to extend it. This chapter was meant to be a lot more exciting than it was, but I do think that it cleared up some confusion over Ginny's behaviour as of late. I promised that she would not only explain herself but redeem herself as well, which she will. Remember that she is human and humans make mistakes—spectacularly stupid ones. This chapter also starts to address the potential camaraderie between Draco and Ginny, which is really what I wanted to work towards from the very beginning.

Do Draco and Ginny have feelings for one another? Maybe. It's hard to say. Are they attracted to one another? Undoubtedly. But attraction is fickle as it can sometimes be unexplainable. The snogging, the heated glances, the need to push each other away and then pull each other near—these are hormones, and in teenagers they have a nasty way of enveloping until there's nothing to see beyond the attraction. Can Draco and Ginny see beyond the attraction? Well, I guess that's up to me, isn't it? ^_~


	10. Now It's Time To Party

**Chapter 10 – Now It's Time To Party Like It's 1975!**

Sirius Black hovered near the punchbowl like a bee buzzing at a flower. While he tried his best to look inconspicuous, the rest of the Marauders provided a distraction against the monitoring professors. When the coast was clear he stealthily retrieved a small, silver flask from his inner jacket pocket and poured a clear liquid into the mountainous fountain bowl.

"Did you put it in?" James whispered when Sirius strolled up beside him.

"That I did," he replied with a grin, turning to wink at Remus and Peter.

James and Peter grinned like a couple of Cheshire cats, rubbing their hands together in glee. Remus, on the other hand, looked somewhat hesitant.

"Are you sure it's safe?" he asked for the third time that night.

"Yes, Moony. Prongs and I tested it ourselves," Sirius reassured his friend, intoning a sort of finality that brooked no further debate.

Remus nodded and let out a shaky sigh, still not looking entirely convinced. Sirius reached over and clasped his mate's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, offering Remus his most charming smile.

"So," Sirius began, directing his attention to James, "what are we to do about the German?"

James frowned. "You seriously want him in?"

Sirius took his hand off Remus's shoulder. "Prongs, this was originally _your_ idea."

"Yeah, I know, but—"

Sirius raised his hand. "Listen; don't get your knickers in a twist over him and Evans." He sounded somewhat empathetic. _Somewhat_. "You're just reading into things, mate."

James spread his arms wide in supplication. "But she openly _flirts_ with him."

"Yeah—" Sirius rolled his eyes "—in front of you, Prongs."

James paused to consider this and then gave Sirius a doubtful look. "I guess ..."

"German's into my cousin, not Evans," Sirius explained pedantically. "Besides, I think you should be more worried about Snape." He pointed to Lily and Severus, who were both talking and laughing in the corner.

James opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius put an arm around his best mate and directed his attention away from Lily and towards Draco.

"A few weeks ago we both thought that German was a possible candidate. That hasn't changed now, has it?"

James let out a frustrated sigh and slowly shook his head.

Sirius was wearing James down and he knew it. It was obvious that James considered Draco a friend, but when it came to Lily Evans that boy would be irrational—saying and doing the stupidest things to impress her, which often resulted in him alienating the people Lily liked as well as the redhead herself.

"Moony, what do you think?" Sirius turned to the lanky werewolf.

Remus thought on the question for a moment. "He's a little standoffish, but I like him."

"Me too," Peter added meekly.

Sirius turned back to face James, offering him a wolfish grin. "The votes are in, Prongs."

James shrugged off Sirius's arm and held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," he agreed with a small smile touching his lips. "So how do we know if he's the right one to join?"

"We test him, of course," Sirius replied as a matter-of fact.

"What kind of test?" Remus asked, looking sceptical once more.

"A test of courage."

"And how do we do that?" James asked, looking equally doubtful.

"The Forbidden Forest."

**-x-**

Ginny rubbed the palm of her hands along the side of her dress—a nervous habit that she had developed when she was a toddler. She wasn't accustomed to wearing dresses, especially gowns as fine as the one that she was currently wearing. It made her feel awkward and out of place, and wiping sweaty palms onto silk wasn't exactly the most dignified thing she could do in the company of Lucius Malfoy.

She knew that Lucius had noted her nervousness with a mixture of amusement and disdain, but he seemed more intent on observing Draco and Narcissa than how Ginny ruined her frock. Her plan to have Lucius notice Narcissa appeared to be working, but she couldn't be sure whether he was fixated on Narcissa or Draco.

"Zay seem to be 'aving a lot of fun," Ginny commented airily, stealing a subtle glance at Lucius's face to gauge his reaction.

An imperceptible frown crossed his features. "Yes, they are." He turned to face her and offered her a handsome smile. "Geneviève, would you care to dance?"

Ginny swallowed hard and feigned an apologetic smile. "Oui, mais je voudrais aller à la salle de bain." She blushed, giving him an awkward curtsey. "Je m'excuse."

Ginny made her way out of the Great Hall, locking eyes with Draco. He whispered something in Narcissa's ear and then excused himself, heading Ginny's way. The redhead glanced back to see if Lucius was watching her and Draco. Instead, the tall blond's attention was fixed on Narcissa making a beeline to the refreshment table to pour herself a glass of punch.

"Was Father watching us dance?" Draco asked as soon as he met Ginny outside the large steel and wood doors.

"Intently, but I think that we need to step it up a notch." Ginny wrung her hands nervously and glanced furtively about the deserted hallway. "You need to be more ..." She paused, searching for the right words. "Touchy-feely."

Draco blanched. "That's disgusting, Weasley. You do recall that she's my mother, yes?"

"Yes, yes." Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "But you can't just assume that Lucius will pursue your mother once we are gone," she reasoned, looking up at him in earnest. "We have to make sure that they fall in love."

Draco let out an annoyed sigh and placed one hand on his hip while he used the other to pinch the nerve at the bridge of his nose. "I can't very well start groping someone in the middle of a dance floor—a chaperoned one at that." He dropped his hand and looked directly at her.

Ginny cursed under her breath, knowing full-well that he was correct. A professor would put a stop to any such fraternising before Lucius could even begin to react. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and turned to glance past the Entrance Hall towards the grounds. A light suddenly went off above her head (figuratively, of course).

"You'd be uninhibited outside," she said slowly and then turned to face him.

"What?"

"If you were to take Narcissa outside, flirt with her and ... I dunno, put your _moves_ on her, I could bring Lucius out at the most opportune time and have him stop you."

"Put my _moves_ on her?" Draco repeated and then suddenly looked very ill.

"I'll have Lucius out there before anything—" She stopped herself and began to pantomime something rather vulgar with her hands. "Like _that_ happens."

Draco leaned back against the wall and put a hand to his stomach. "Thanks, Weasley, I'm properly reassured now."

Ginny shook her head. "It will work, Malfoy," she promised. "When I see you both leave I will wait one minute before I convince Lucius to follow me outside."

"Where to?"

"The East wing," she suggested, and then offered him a confident smile.

He grimaced.

Ginny gave a determined nod and smoothed out her dress while Draco remained outside the doorway, not wanting to enter the same time as she as it would look conspicuous. Ginny then made her way back into the Great Hall where most of the students were on the dance floor. She managed to spy Lucius and Narcissa at the refreshment table and walked towards them. Both were talking animatedly—well, Narcissa was. Lucius appeared to be just occasionally nodding while Cissa blathered on.

"I'd like a devilled egg," Narcissa announced, pouring another drink. "I'm famished." She turned to face Lucius and stared at him pointedly until the tall blond raised a questioning eyebrow. "Lucius, I'm going to go nick a devilled egg from the—from the ..." She tried to think of the name for the snack table but decided to forgo searching the recesses of her brain for such a word. "Would you like one?"

Lucius shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not partial to eggs."

Narcissa drained her glass and narrowed her ice blue eyes, appraising the blond as though he was being deliberately obtuse. "Why not?"

Lucius, unaffected by her critical eye, lazily shrugged. "They're just farts clothed in sustenance."

At this statement, Narcissa let out an unattractive peal of laughter, swatting at the blond's arm. Lucius didn't withdraw from her touch, but he did seem to be conflicted with several emotions: mainly amusement and confusion. As Narcissa continued to cackle, Ginny finally approached the two, smiling brightly. Cissa stopped talking and greeted the redhead by kissing her on the cheek.

"Gin, my love, I'm having such a grand time. Aren't you having a grand time? _I_ am." She let out another squeal of laughter and elbowed Lucius not-so-elegantly in the ribs. "Don't you just love her hair red? It's so plebeian—but in a _good_ way, you know?" She then went back to the punch bowl and refilled her glass.

Ginny knitted her brow in confusion and looked to Lucius for an explanation of Narcissa's behaviour. He merely raised his pale eyebrows and shrugged.

"Gin, here." Narcissa handed Ginny a drink—most of which slopped onto her hand. "Whoops." Narcissa began giggling. "This punch is just delish! Go on, have a bit!"

Ginny shook the sticky liquid off her hand, and Lucius handed her a white handkerchief from his breast pocket. As Ginny tried to dab the punch off her arm, Draco strode up beside her, and Narcissa practically launched herself at him.

"Drago, I missed you!" She snuggled her face into his chest and then jumped to attention when the band began to play. "Oh, I love this song!" she announced and started to drag Draco towards the middle of the floor. "This song is all about _me_!"

Draco quickly glanced at Ginny before turning to regard his mother. "Narcissa—" he cleared his throat "—perhaps you would rather accompany me on a stroll outside?"

Narcissa stopped walking and turned around to face Draco, giving him a big, cheesy grin—something rather foreign-looking on the otherwise regal blonde.

"Of course, Drago," she replied dreamily and then hiccupped. "I'd love to."

**-x-**

The forest east of the castle was thick with trees: beech, oak, pine, sycamore, and yew. Each tree, young and old, had its own tale to tell, and if this forest could speak, it would whisper warnings to those foolish enough to enter.

During the day, the woods were the epitome of serene majesty. Its numerous crystal-clear brooks babbled over limestone and quartz; each filled with minnows and tadpoles that feebly tried to eke out an existence in the cool waters and pebbled shores. Even the canopy of trees overhead could not camouflage the beauty within, as wildflowers blanketed every clearing with its aroma.

At night, however, the forest took on an entirely different image: one of menace and danger. In this vast, dense thicket, where paths lined with knotgrass stretched for kilometres, those who dared to travel down it always took the wide trail. Off this main path the way was almost impassable—although witches and wizards had managed to move through it, as well as creatures large and small. But if you didn't know what to expect or how to handle yourself, you were as good as dead.

"Padfoot, we shouldn't have come this far," Peter whined, cowering behind the tall, dark brunet, who was in the lead.

"Wormtail, relax."

"I agree with Peter," Remus said nervously, although not nearly as nervously as Peter. "Besides, what are we going to get out here to test Drago's courage?"

Sirius turned to face his three mates, who each had their glowing wands held high.

"I'm going to Transfigure into a dog and pretend to attack Prongs here." Sirius pointed to James. "You and Wormtail will go fetch German and tell him that Prongs—James—is in danger and that you need his help."

James nodded as if this was a feasible plan, but Remus was not convinced.

"What if he just gets one of the professors?"

James and Sirius exchanged glances.

"Uh, tell him that we'd all get in trouble for being in the Forbidden Forest anyway—we'd get expelled if caught," James explained.

"Okay ..."

Remus was still unconvinced, but the pleading looks from his two best mates finally made the lanky teen relent, and he agreed to go back to the castle.

"Hey, uh, Padfoot?" Peter asked, interrupting, his boots crunching in the light snow.

"Yeah?"

"We're off the path."

Sirius furrowed his brow in annoyance. "So?"

"So, I don't know what's in the forest this far back," he replied meekly, and Remus frowned.

James put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "There's nothing dangerous out here except centaurs, and they won't hurt us. Besides, their lair is along one of the eastern paths."

"I don't like this." Remus eyes were flitting back and forth, scanning the treetops.

"Remus, quit being a—" Sirius paused mid-sentence, noting the eerie silence that filled the forest.

There were no sounds at all—no birds, no wolves, no nothing. It was never this quiet. The silence was soon shattered by the sound of snapping branches.

"W-what was that?" Peter stuttered, glancing about furtively.

"Bloody hell!"

In the light of the half-moon was the gleam of several glittering eyes. At first, none of the boys knew what to think. It was unusual to see so many eyes, especially hovering some three feet off the ground. Suddenly, a creature appeared to step out of the denseness of the forest, creeping along the trees with long hairy legs almost five feet in length.

"It's an Acromantula," Remus whispered as he fearfully gripped Peter's arm and slowly drew the smaller boy behind him.

The spider stalked towards them, and the boys raised their wands defensively. The creature stopped, examining them.

"We mean you no harm," James stated, slowly backing up with Sirius as they all formed a tight ring. "We were just lost. We'll be on our way now."

"Why are you talking to it?" Peter hissed, raising his wand at the spider before Remus stopped him.

"They are capable of human speech, just like us," he informed Peter, who slowly lowered his weapon.

The spider stood motionless in front of them. It watched them all with its many beady eyes with a sort of hungry intensity that bordered on curiosity.

"Yes, so maybe we can reason with it—him, her?" James looked to the spider for an answer, but it just continued to stare at them.

"I don't think this one can talk. It might be a baby," Remus offered.

"_That's_ a baby?"

"Yes, he is one of _my_ babies," a voice hissed from behind.

The boys turned around to see a much larger spider—seven feet in height with a legspan of fifteen feet. All four Marauders gulped in unison.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked, dumbstruck.

"I am Mosag, queen of the Acromantulas," the beast replied, raising herself up to full height, which was quite considerable.

James briefly looked to Remus for assurance and then turned back to address the spider. "We just want to return to the castle. We meant no harm."

Mosag stood some twenty feet from them, but she appeared to be _much_ closer to the naked eye. Her gaze was not one of curiosity, but of anger and hunger.

"Harm will come to you," she promised, as she took a large step forward. "My babies are hungry, and so am I."

The boys drew in tighter, and James whipped his head around to whisper to Remus.

"Moony, what do these things fear?"

"Basilisks?"

A multitude of curses erupted from each boy's lips.

"Why don't we just Transfigure and make a break for it back to the castle?" Sirius offered.

James shook his head. "No, it's not full moon yet, and Moony isn't an Animagus."

Sirius cursed again and gripped his wand tightly. "Then what? We can't stand here whispering to one another while these two things prepare to eat us."

"Okay, we all make a break for the castle. Padfoot, Moony, and I will stun the mum." James locked eyes with Peter. "Wormtail, you'll immobilise the baby."

They all nodded in understanding.

"On three."

All four shifted around so that Peter was facing the baby, and the other three were in front of Mosag. The female Acromantula seemed to sense that something was up and she began to stalk towards them.

"Three!" James yelled, raising his wand at the large female.

The three boys cast a slew of curses Mosag's way, temporarily blinding and impairing her. Peter did the same with the baby, sending it squealing backwards.

"Run, run, run!" Sirius ordered, directing another curse at Mosag before turning around.

All four boys then took off back towards the castle, thinking that they had impaired the spiders to the point of dissuading them from pursuit. They couldn't possibly have been any more wrong.

**-x-**

"Sev, you might want to go easy on that punch." Lily watched as Severus poured himself a fourth glass.

"Why?" he asked, looking perplexed and slightly cross-eyed.

"I think Potter and Black have spiked it."

Severus scoffed and threw back the punch. "Well, I think they wasted their galleons because I can't taste a thing." He smacked his lips and poured himself yet another drink.

Lily couldn't help but grin mischievously at her dear, clueless friend.

"What?" Severus asked, noting the peculiar look Lily was giving him as he took a sip. "I haven't been affected at all ..." He paused and then turned around, looking about the Great Hall in a drunken stupor. "Wait—" his eyes widened and he reached out to grab Lily's hand "—why are we on a tropical isle?"

The redhead laughed aloud and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, Sev. Let's see if Slughorn has a remedy for the unbelievable hangover that you are most likely to incur tomorrow morning."

Lily then dragged a stunned Severus past Ginny, who almost spit out her drink when she overheard what the younger Gryffindor had said. She looked up at Lucius, who was standing beside her.

"The punch is spiked," Ginny whispered.

"And Narcissa is alone with Unglaub," Lucius stated, looking serious. "Stay here, I'll go get her."

Ginny nodded and watched him leave, setting down her glass. She suddenly felt very nauseous. Narcissa was drunk and alone with Draco, and Lucius was going to retrieve her.

Wait.

Lucius was going to go get Narcissa? Oh no. He would see Draco and Narcissa in a compromising position—and not like how Draco and Ginny had planned. Lucius would assume that Draco purposely got Narcissa drunk in order to take advantage of her because Draco was friends with the Marauders, who were the ones who spiked the punch. No, no, no! Lucius was going to hex Draco into oblivion. She had to stop this.

Ginny kicked off her heels and ran barefoot out the Great Hall towards the grounds, ignoring the professors who yelled at her to stop running. She pushed her way out the doors and headed east, stopping only to lift her dress and retrieve her wand from the holster she had attached to her thigh. She finally made her way towards the forest and heard raised voices. She rushed towards the sound.

"What were you doing with her, Unglaub?" Lucius had his wand trained on Draco, who was standing in front of a dishevelled and sickly-looking Narcissa.

Draco opened his mouth to unleash a scathing retort when he spotted Ginny standing on top of the hill just behind his father.

"He was holding my hair while I was vomiting near this lovely tree here, Lucius," Narcissa answered, bent over and pointing to a patch of gooey liquid that had melted through the snow. "Now _lower_ that wand."

Lucius heard the unmistakable threat in her voice and saw the steely determination flicker in her eyes. He hesitated for only moment and then did as she asked. Grimacing, he sheathed his wand and eyed Draco warily.

"Was it your intention to spike the punch so that you could take advantage of Narcissa?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Pardon me?"

Narcissa creased her brow and looked up at Draco.

"You heard me!" Lucius spat. "You had your little underlings poison the punch."

"I did no such thing." Draco scowled at his father and crossed his arms over his chest. "Those morons do what they like. I don't control them."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Indeed."

Draco and Lucius continued to stare each other down until Narcissa once more emptied the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

"Could you boys perhaps exchange your monosyllabic expressions of arrogance someplace else?" she asked weakly, searching for a dry patch of grass in between the snow to sit down on.

Ginny holstered her wand and walked down to where Narcissa was, feeling the snow melt between her toes. She dismissively waved Draco and Lucius off and both amazingly complied. She then began to rub Narcissa's back, letting the blonde lean onto her for support.

"Gin, I don't feel so good."

"I know, Cissa," Ginny cooed empathetically, feeling her feet freeze. "Let's get you into your nice, warm bed." She then lifted the blonde up to support her and began to escort her back towards the castle.

Draco and Lucius were about to walk over and join them when their attention was diverted with the sound of boots crunching on snow. The two boys exchanged glances and then stared into the forest from where the noise of hurried footsteps came. Then there followed a cacophony of sounds—of breaking branches and yelping noises of pain. Suddenly Sirius and James broke out through the bushes and ran past Lucius and Draco.

"Drago, Malfoy—_run_!"

Not too far behind them were Remus and Peter, who were wheezing and panting, looking utterly terrified.

"What in the name of Circe was that?" Lucius watched the four teenagers blur past him up the steep, snowy slope.

"Morons," Draco answered flippantly and then directed his attention back towards the forest line. "What I want to know is what they were running from."

A blood-curdling squeal pierced the night sky and a large blur of black contrasting against the white snow seemed to explode from the forest. The two teenagers stumbled back in astonishment as a baby Acromantula came crashing out of the woods, disoriented and angry, heading straight towards the girls.

Used to danger, Ginny reacted instinctively and pushed Narcissa out of the way just as the spider lunged forward and knocked the redhead to the ground. Ginny pushed up onto her hands and spat out a disgusting mouthful of snow and mud. She rolled over onto her back and grabbed the hem of her silk dress. With one fluid motion, she ripped it all the way up the side of her thigh and freed her wand from its holster.

With a fury only someone like Ginny Weasley could muster, the redhead jumped back up to her feet and began hexing the beast that had begun to advance on her friend. The baby Acromantula was more frightened than anything, but Ginny did not know this. Instead, she launched numerous spells at the spider, which dodged each one with uncanny agility.

Without a wand, Narcissa couldn't do anything but stay out of Ginny's way. She called out for Draco and Lucius, who both rushed down the hill towards the girls with their wands drawn. The two advanced on the spider, blasting it with spells that sent it reeling backwards, clutching pathetically at a wounded leg. It may have been hurt, but it wasn't out of the fight. It still swiped at the teenagers with ferocious intensity.

Ginny parried artfully with the beast as Draco leapt over to her side, trying to stun the thing back into the forest. Just as it looked as though the spider was about to flee back into the woods, a sharp scream pierced their concentration, and both teenagers were forced to turn their heads and look behind them.

There stood a monstrous seven-foot tall Acromantula. It was staring down at a frightened Narcissa, who was trying to crawl her way backwards up the hill towards the castle.

"Go help her! I've got this one!" Ginny yelled at Draco, who nodded in thanks.

The moment Draco swivelled around, however, something unexpected happened. His father had run behind the spider and stunned it!

"Help Geneviève!" Lucius ordered Draco as he began to immobilise and bind the enormous beast.

Lucius went over to where Narcissa sat. He knelt down and picked her up, and she clung to the tall blond like a drowning victim to a life preserver.

Relieved that his father had so quickly incapacitated the largest spider, Draco turned back around to help Ginny. He watched, in horror, as the redhead sailed past him in the air, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

"Weasley!" he yelled, sprinting to her side.

She slowly sat up and began rubbing her head. "I'm fine," she replied and then looked up at him with wide eyes, pointing a finger past him. "Malfoy, behind you!"

Draco turned, as if in slow motion, only to have a long, hairy spider leg kick his wand out of his hand and throw him back against a tree with another. With the wind knocked out of him Draco feebly tried to stand to his feet, but the black spider wasted no time and shot a thick web at him, moulding him to the trunk of the tree.

The beast then squawked at its mother—a horribly frightful and wretched sound. When Mosag didn't reply, the smaller spider let out a frustrated cry and scuttled towards Draco with lightning speed. It menacingly snapped its pincers at him, ready to bite.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Ginny yelled from behind the spider.

The Acromantula froze, inches from Draco's neck. Draco looked past the horrible thing to see Ginny standing beyond him. Her fiery red hair was hanging in front of her green eyes; her pale skin was smeared with mud, and she was breathing heavily. She was also smirking.

"That makes two, Malfoy," she said as she levitated the spider away and began to bind it.

Draco rolled his eyes. Where did Weasley learn to be a pompous prat—and where did she learn to smirk like that?

"Just get me out of this," he ordered, struggling to get out of his suit of webbing.

Ginny began zapping away at the thick web strings while Draco twisted and turned, trying to release himself from the sticky bonds. He eyed the spider warily, ready to warn Ginny should it break free from the spell.

"Lucius, Narcissa—are you both okay?" Ginny asked breathlessly as she pulled another piece of web off Draco.

Lucius nodded, still keeping his wand trained on Mosag, who stood silently in her bonds, not even bothering to struggle. She seemed to be assessing the entire situation with her many beady eyes.

"Narcissa, I need you to run back into the castle and get help," Lucius ordered.

Narcissa began her assent up the hill but slipped, twisting her ankle in the wet snow. Lucius turned around and bent down to help her and, with his attention diverted, Mosag acted quickly, using the distraction to her advantage. What Lucius didn't know was that the only way to properly restrain an Acromantula was to petrify it, like Ginny had done. Without being fully immobilised, the spider could still shoot venom at its victim.

Mosag did just that and sprayed her toxic venom onto Lucius's back. The Slytherin let out a grunt and fell forward onto Narcissa, who tried to hold the blond up with trembling arms. Lucius had taken the brunt of the toxic venom, which, in females, was acid-like in quality. It ate through his jacket as though it was wet tissue paper, leaving him incapacitated. With Lucius half unconscious, Mosag was able to break free from her bonds and advance on the two Slytherins.

Narcissa let out a short cry and fumbled for Lucius's wand, retrieving it from his limp hand. She pointed it at Mosag.

"_Impedimenta_!" she cried and then threw several more curses the spider's way.

Mosag stumbled backwards, stunned. Narcissa used this moment of distraction to direct her wand at Lucius's back, trying her best to quickly counter-act the venom that threatened to poison his system. The wand trembled in her hand. She fought back the terror she felt all the way to her bones. With this much corrosive venom in his system Lucius would surely die within minutes if she didn't heal him.

Mosag let out an enraged scream and began to charge towards the distracted Narcissa. Before the spider could attack, however, Ginny ran out in front and threw a _Petrificus Totalus_ at the Acromantula. Mosag nimbly side-stepped the spell and turned around to face the redhead—her real threat.

Ginny steadied her wand, and Mosag lunged at the redhead with her powerful, long legs. Ginny managed to dive out of the way while launching a spell at the beast, which effortlessly deflected the curse with a powerful limb.

Powerless to assist, Draco struggled in his bonds, using all of his might to free himself. He watched helplessly as Ginny tried to fight the large spider on her own while still keeping her concentration fixed on the smaller one and keeping it bound. Draco's determination to break free was intensified when he saw Mosag's large limb connect with Ginny's face, sending the redhead reeling backwards.

Draco mustered strength from every muscle in his body and, letting out a brutal cry, finally managed to snap off the last of his bonds. He leapt forward, searching for his wand in the snow. Before he could retrieve it he saw Mosag lunge at Ginny with her pinchers and he acted on pure instinct, tackling the redhead to the ground and shielding her body with his own.

Ginny fell to the ground with Draco on top of her. She felt something slice into her back, like the tip of a knife, and a sudden weight was lifted from her body. She rolled over to witness a macabre scene above her: Draco hovered silently in the air with one of the spider's pincher bayoneted through his stomach. She opened her mouth in shock and extended a bloodied hand to his, which dangled limply in front of her face. His grey eyes were paled and clouded over; crimson blood pooled onto his lower lip and fell, streaming down onto her face.

Suddenly, he was no longer floating above her but flying through the air—his lifeless body connecting with a large oak tree. A blood-curdling scream pierced her ears, and Ginny winced. It was only after feeling her throat chafe with each swallow she took that she realised the screaming had come from her.

"Draco," she whispered as her eyes rolled back into her head.

Her vision was dimming. She tried to focus on Draco's prone body, but the second hit to her head was too much. She watched as the gigantic spider stalked towards her, and her eyelids began to droop and close.

"Gin!" Narcissa screamed, seeing both her friends lying unconscious in the snow.

Lucius shakily rose to his feet and took his wand from Narcissa's hand. "Get help."

Narcissa did as ordered, and Lucius turned to aim his wand at Mosag. She towered above her prey in victory.

"Get back into the forest before I kill you," he threatened, taking a steady step forward.

"You wouldn't dare use the Killing Curse," Mosag said, eyeing Lucius warily and ignoring her unconscious quarry.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" He offered her a cruel sneer as a small stream of blood trickled down his temple. "_Avada_—"

Before he could finish the curse, something the size of a grapefruit hit the spider square in one of her eyes, squishing it into a disgusting paste. Mosag staggered backwards, screaming in agony and holding onto her damaged eye with her front legs.

Lucius turned to see where the stone was thrown from. Standing not some five feet from him was Argus Filch.

"Don't look at me!" the caretaker yelled, pointing at the retreating spider. "Petrify and bind the damn thing!"

**-x-**

Professor McGonagall had escorted all four students to the hospital wing. Luckily, Filch had spotted the Marauders running into the castle and caught the tall, gangly one by the scruff of the neck and asked him what they were running from. After the student gave him a breathless answer, Filch ordered the teenager to go fetch a professor from the Great Hall while he headed outside.

Argus Filch, a Squib, had managed to save all four teenagers and ordered Lucius to petrify the largest Acromantula, temporarily incapacitating it. Shortly after Professor McGonagall came running out and properly bound both spiders and sent them back into the forest. She ordered Filch to go fetch Hagrid so that he could have a palaver with the Acromantulas and have the entire mess sorted out.

At the infirmary Lucius was treated for his wounds, which were luckily nothing serious due to Narcissa's quick and efficient wandwork. Draco's stomach wound was completely healed, and Madam Pomfrey had removed all traces of venom from his system. The blond also endured a few broken ribs, which were remedied with Skele-Gro. Ginny, on the other hand, suffered a mild concussion and some minor cuts and bruises. Both teenagers woke up an hour later in their separate hospital beds with Lucius and Narcissa nowhere in sight.

The two sat up and regarded each other with tired curiosity.

"I feel like I've been mauled by a Hippogriff," Ginny stated with a groan as she turned back her covers and got out of bed.

"You look it," Draco agreed with smirk, and the redhead scowled.

"Where are Lucius and Narcissa?" Ginny shakily rose to her feet. She swayed slightly and shivered, bringing her hands to her arms, trying to rub warmth back into them

"I dunno."

Draco walked over to where Ginny stood teetering on her feet and helped steady her. He then took off his jacket and draped it around her trembling shoulders. Ginny looked up at him with thanks, and he opened the door, leading them both out of the empty infirmary into the equally empty hall.

They both managed to limp their way down to the Great Hall. The ball, for the most part, was over. A few people stalked the corners, including Evans and Snape. The Marauders were there too, taking in the two dishevelled teenagers with a mixture of curiosity and relief. Only three couples remained on the dance floor—one of those couples being Draco's parents.

Ginny elbowed Draco's ribs, eliciting a glare from the blond.

"Sorry," she muttered and then pointed to his parents. "Look, they're dancing."

Draco rubbed at his tender ribs and watched his parents dance and laugh, and a small smile flitted across his lips. Then he caught his mother's eye, and she stopped dancing and stood up on her toes to whisper something in his father's ear. Lucius glanced over at both Draco and Ginny, and he and Narcissa began to walk towards them.

"I'm glad that you two are alright," Narcissa said as she leaned forward and gave Ginny a warm hug. As she drew back, she smiled awkwardly at Draco. "Madam Pomfrey said that you both would be unconscious for a few hours, so we decided to go back to our rooms and get changed. We were going to come straight back up, but Lucius convinced me to have another dance." A faint blush crossed her cheeks.

Ginny smiled brightly. "Zat iz good. You two look ver-ee good together."

"Thank you," Lucius drawled. His eyes subtly roamed their persons. "So do you two."

Draco glanced down at his torn outfit and then turned to take in the sight of Ginny in her ripped green dress and his mud-stained jacket. They were both covered in dirt and dried blood. Draco grimaced. He could always count on his father to turn a compliment into a jab.

"Enjoy your evening," Lucius said with a slight smirk as he offered Narcissa his arm. "À bientôt, Geneviève." He offered Ginny a courteous smile and then gave a curt nod to Draco. "Unglaub."

Narcissa took Lucius's arm, and the two returned to the dance floor, ignoring Draco and Ginny entirely. As the two blonds waltzed elegantly to the slow tempo music, Ginny watched the couple rather intently with a frown on her face. She then directed her attention to Draco, examining him closely.

Draco knitted his brow and gave Ginny an exasperated look. "Weasley, _what_ are you looking at?"

"Just checking to see if you're going invisible," she explained nonchalantly, still examining him in case any part of him should start to disappear.

"Okay ..." He paused, confused. He watched her observe his parents with a frown and he cleared his throat in an annoyed fashion. "Weasley, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Draco was not convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her pointedly. Fidgeting under his gaze, Ginny finally looked up and let out a dramatic sigh.

"It's just—" she pouted "—they need to kiss."

Draco opened his mouth to reply when he felt a hand on his shoulder from behind.

"Drago?"

He turned around to come face-to-face with Remus Lupin. Draco frowned at the lanky fifth-year, who looked rather sheepish.

"Drago—" there was a hangdog expression on his face "—I'm sorry about what happened tonight."

"Zat was all because of _you_—you and zee Marauders?" Ginny asked, flabbergasted and then suddenly very livid.

Remus's eyes widened in shock and apprehension. "How did you—"

"Answer the question," Draco pressed with narrowed eyes.

Remus did a double take and swallowed hard. "Yes, it was our fault—James, Sirius, Peter, and myself."

"Why?" Ginny asked and then looked up at Draco.

"So that was the surprise that Black had in store for me?" Draco asked, and Remus violently shook his head.

"No, we never meant to get so close to the Acromantulas' lair. We had no idea such things even lived in the forest." He looked lost. "I mean Acromantulas are from Borneo, not England!"

Draco and Ginny exchanged glances. They both knew of the spiders. They had seen one at the Triwizard Cup and too many to count at the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Mais, why were you out in zee forest to begin with?"

Remus let out a protracted sigh. "It was a test of courage for Drago—to initiate him into the Marauders."

"A test of courage?" Draco looked doubtful. "Pitting me against Acromantulas?"

"No, Peter and I were to come get you to help us 'rescue' James, who was being 'attacked' by a dog," Remus explained almost pleadingly, but Draco looked more confused than ever.

"A dog?"

"Yes, a wild dog."

Draco then glanced over at Ginny, who didn't look at all puzzled by Remus's story. He shook his head and lifted his hand, indicating Remus should continue.

"But that plan was shot when the spiders attacked us," Remus added. "We just ran. We had no idea they'd follow us out of the forest." He then directed his attention to Ginny. "We didn't even see you and Narcissa Black."

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, looking rather unimpressed. "Zat was reckless."

Remus hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry." He looked up at Draco, who was staring at the wall, scowling.

Ginny saw the look on Draco's face and knew that the blond was not going to accept Remus's apology, so she unfolded her arms and offered the lanky Gryffindor a weak smile.

"Zank you for telling us, Remus, but I zink you 'ad best go join your friends now," she said as politely as she could.

Remus cast another pathetic look Draco's way and then slunk back to his mates. It was then that Lily and Severus walked over, exchanging words with each other before finally approaching the two older students.

"What is this—question period?" Draco looked at Ginny, who merely shrugged.

"We heard through the grapevine that you two were out near the Forbidden Forest." Lily glanced about the room and leaned in close to whisper, "We, uh, heard you fought an Acromantula."

"_Acromantulas_," Draco corrected in a normal, if not carrying voice. "Plural." The look on his face could be described as smug.

Ginny couldn't help but smirk. Lily and Severus, on the other hand, exchanged curious glances. Lily appeared impressed while Severus just shook his head, looking bored and uninterested.

"Wow, so you both fought _two_ Acromantulas?" There was a definite hint of awe in Lily's voice as she looked back and forth between Draco to Ginny. "It would have taken three of me to defend myself against a third of one of them—and that's _only_ if attacked me with its arse."

Ginny openly laughed this, and Lily giggled with her.

"They have arses?" Severus asked facetiously, and Lily turned to punch him in the arm.

"You catch my drift," she said haughtily.

"Seldom, if ever," he returned with a sneer, rubbing at his arm

"Yeah, yeah." Lily rolled her eyes. "Well, 'grats on that. This incident will be talked about for years to come." After a moment, she furrowed her brow. "I still wonder why they were there to begin with. I mean I had heard rumours, but I always thought they were perpetuated by the professors in order to keep us out of the forest."

"Well, it will definitely work now—keeping us out, that is," Severus reasoned with a sniff from his aquiline nose.

Lily nodded in agreement. "I am also curious why they came out of the forest at all. That's so unusual. I wonder what provoked them."

Severus blatantly gaped at the redhead. "You honestly wonder how Acromantulas were lured out of the Forbidden Forest?" he asked rather condescendingly as he glanced in the Marauders' direction.

Lily followed his gaze and frowned. "Potter and Black? Why would they do that?"

"Why would they spike the punch?" he asked irritably, and the two began a heated debate on the maturity level of Gryffindors.

Draco and Ginny looked at each other and then excused themselves from the fifth-years' conversation. They walked over to the door of the Great Hall and stood just inside the room.

"What a night," Ginny said, sighing tiredly as she rested her head against the door.

"Well, at least my parents are together," Draco remarked as he watched them dance. "You didn't muck _everything_ up, Weasley."

"No, I guess I didn't." Ginny turned to look at Draco. "I even managed to save your life—again."

Draco scowled. "You weren't the only one saving others tonight," he said as he rubbed his tender ribs for emphasis.

"Right." Ginny nodded, trying to appear as serious as possible. "You know, they say if you save a person's life, you're indebted to that person for the rest of your life."

Draco raised an eyebrow in incredulity. "Really? That's rubbish. It should be the other way around."

Ginny let out an inelegant snort. "Okay, Malfoy. I pledge to watch over you my entire life and save you from bodily harm, like the damsel in distress that you are."

"Weasley, I'll have you know that before I met you I had always been chivalrous towards pure-blooded females." Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but he raised a hand to silence her. "You have made me totally renege on my code of conduct the entire time that I have been here."

"Oh—" Ginny raised an eyebrow in interest "—and what's that?"

"Well, let's see." Draco began to make a list with his fingers. "I 'befriended' Gryffindors, I got into a feud with my own father—oh, and my personal favourite, you had me try to make out with my own mother!"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I meant what was your code of conduct—your motto?"

Draco lowered his hands and formed his lips into an 'O' shape. Ginny raised her brow and lifted her shoulders, urging him to explain.

"It's 'death before dishonour'," he answered tersely.

"Death _before_ dishonour?" Ginny repeated, pursing her lips together. "How much dishonour are we talking about here, Malfoy, because I think you could handle quite a lot."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What a little comedian. You're in rather rare form tonight, Weasley."

Ginny smirked. "Near death experiences always draw out my witty side."

"Right. _Wit_." Draco leaned back against the door. "I knew there was a reason why I dislike you so."

"Pfft, you love me, Malfoy."

Draco snorted. "Weasley, I hate you so much it gives me _energy_."

"Really?"

Draco turned to look her straight in the eyes. "Weasley, I have to get up _early_ in the morning to hate you because there just isn't enough time in the day!"

"Now who's the comedian?"

They both stared seriously at one another for a full ten seconds before breaking down into belly-rumbling laughter. After a minute's worth of spasming stomach muscles and wiping tears from their eyes, the two teenagers slumped back against the wall, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Mister Unglaub? Miss Belette?"

Startled, they both turned to see Professor McGonagall standing just outside the door.

"I expected to find you two in the infirmary." She frowned disapprovingly. "I wanted to inform you both that the Acromantulas were re-released into the wild by our grounds keeper, Mister Hagrid. They are not allowed to come on the grounds ever again. However, I was informed that the beasts were provoked by some students who had entered the Forbidden Forest without permission." She pursed her lips together and raised a thin eyebrow. "Did either of you see the students who came out of the forest?"

Draco turned his head to scan the Great Hall and caught the eye of James and Sirius, who were both looking at him rather pleadingly, seeing their Head of House talking with him. Draco then glanced over at Ginny, who merely shrugged indifferently and leaned her head back against the large wooden door. Draco paused and looked back at the professor. He then extended his arm and pointed a long index finger in the Marauders' direction.

"That lot right over there."

Ginny couldn't help but let out a snort. She stood up straight and observed the look of betrayal on the Marauders' faces, especially James and Sirius's.

Professor McGonagall frowned and immediately marched over to the gang. Both Draco and Ginny watched as James and Sirius attempted to defend themselves while Peter and Remus remained silent with their eyes cast downwards. The Transfiguration professor seemed entirely unconvinced by their pleas.

"So, why did you tell on them?" Ginny asked, wearily leaning her cheek against the door. "You seemed as though you actually got along with them. I mean they did all of this to get you to join their little gang."

"Weasley, they almost killed my parents and by extension _me_!" He pointed to himself with a look of disgust. "I don't take the murder of me lightly."

"Obviously not."

Professor McGonagall proceeded to escort the Marauders out of the Great Hall, with Sirius and James shooting Draco murderous glares. Behind them were Lily and Severus; the latter was pumping his fist triumphantly in the air.

Ginny pushed herself off the door and watched them leave. "Maybe this is when they straighten themselves out and learn that there are consequences to their actions."

"Not likely."

Ginny reached over and pushed Draco's shoulder. "Pessimist!"

Draco pushed back. "Dreamer!"

Ginny stuck out her tongue and then almost choked on it.

Draco frowned as he watched the redhead have a coughing fit. He awkwardly patted her back while she tried to point a finger towards the dance floor. Bewildered, he followed her finger to see his mother and father kissing.

"Yes, we did it!" Ginny cheered, having recovered from her coughing fit.

Draco couldn't help but silently cheer with her. He turned to offer Ginny a grin when she suddenly launched herself at him. Shocked, he caught her in an exuberant hug, unsure of what to do.

"We did it, Malfoy!" she repeated, hugging him fiercely and causing his jacket to slip off her shoulders.

"Ugh, my ribs," Draco moaned, wincing.

Ginny quickly let go and mumbled an apology, bending down to pick up Draco's jacket. Even though the blond was still in pain, he reached down to retrieve the jacket at the same time and their fingers touched. A sudden jolt of electricity seemed to pass through them as skin met skin. They both let go and stood up at the same time. Ginny stumbled backwards, losing her balance, and Draco instinctively reached forward to steady her. Their eyes met briefly, and Draco handed her back his jacket. She thanked him, and they both looked away.

"A distraction would be great right about now," Draco mumbled.

Just then a large hand suddenly clasped his shoulder, causing the blond to jump.

"Great Scott!" Dumbledore cried, grinning at the two startled students. "This device is extraordinarily fun."

Professor Dumbledore stood behind the two teenagers with a goofy expression on his face, opening his palm to show them the silver Time-Turner.

"Professor, you're back!" Ginny exclaimed with surprise and relief, holding a hand to her chest. She had one too many surprises tonight. She didn't know if she could handle another.

"Yes, sorry I was late," he apologised. "I ended up going to several points in time." His grin widened. "I must admit that the trips were rather enlightening."

Draco scoffed. "What happened to your philosophy on not knowing the future?"

The headmaster turned his attention to Draco. "Oh, but I didn't want to know my future. Other's futures, however ..." He trailed off suggestively and then winked at both students.

Draco shook his head, not wanting to know whose futures the old wizard had visited. Ginny, on the other hand ...

"Whose future did you visit, then?" she asked with unmasked curiosity, and Draco snorted.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dumbledore asked in return as he handed the device to Draco.

"So, it works, then?" Draco asked dubiously as he took the small, silver pocket watch.

"One-hundred percent," the headmaster replied with a raised finger. "I would perhaps advise Professor McGonagall—of the future—of the device's _additional_ features." He then directed his attention to Ginny. "Whomever you got this from might not know this either."

Ginny blushed. "So ... can we leave now?"

"Of course," he answered with a smile. "Would you both rather leave now or in the morning?"

Ginny glanced over at Draco, who she knew was bound _not_ to receive a royal welcome at the Gryffindor Tower tonight, should he return.

"No, now is fine," Ginny answered, and Draco nodded in agreement.

"Yes, now, please."

Dumbledore paused, looking at the two askance until a rather big grin began to spread across his face.

"What?" Ginny was perplexed by the dodgy, old wizard's grinning. He was hiding something, and she wanted to know what.

He merely gave her a wink and waved his hand in front of his face. "Never mind," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. "It's much more fun this way."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but Dumbledore raised his finger, as if remembering something.

"I must go retrieve the clothes you wore on the day of your arrival," he said as he turned around to head towards his office. "I will meet you down at the lake in a few minutes."

Draco and Ginny watched the professor leave and then turned to face one another, seeing the dirt on each other's faces and the state of their knotted hair.

"I guess we better freshen up," Ginny said as she took out her wand and began to clean off the dirt and dried blood.

After she and Draco tidied themselves up, they walked outside to the south end of the castle where the lake was situated. When they finally made it down to the shore, Professor Dumbledore was already there waiting. Two wooden screens stood on the beach, and the students eyed them curiously.

Dumbledore handed them their old uniforms and pointed to the wardrobe screens. "I suggest you both change quickly. It's rather cold out," he said with another wink and turned his back to them. "Let me know when you're both decent."

Draco and Ginny exchanged glances and then raced towards the dividers, quickly taking off their tattered clothes and putting on their old uniforms. Ginny was just glad to be in shoes again.

When they both stepped out and said they were ready, Dumbledore turned around.

"So, when is the exact date you left?"

Ginny involuntarily raised her hand, and Draco lowered it for her.

"This isn't the classroom, Weasley."

Ginny gave both Draco and Dumbledore a sheepish grin. "Sorry. September 8, 1998—that's when we left."

Dumbledore raised his wand and made a motion for Draco to take out the Time-Turner. The blond held it out for the headmaster to see, and the old wizard pointed his wand at each separate dial—setting each year, month, and day on the device. He then took the chain from Draco's hand and wrapped it around both students' necks and stood back.

"Just give the small dial on the top a light tap," he informed them with grin.

Ginny glanced up at Draco and smiled awkwardly. She reached for the Time-Turner that dangled in between then and tapped it with confidence.

"Good luck," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand—that knowing grin still plastered on his aged face.

The Time-Turner then began to hum, ringing in their ears until they almost went deaf. The familiar, nauseating feeling of vertigo seized them both. Colours swirled—as did the scenery—and they raced ahead in time, grabbing onto each other's hand for support. And just as suddenly as it had begun, it had ended. The two Hogwarts 'exchange' students had blinked out of the year 1975.

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** I told you I'd get back to the funny. So, the next chapter is the final one. Do Draco and Ginny make it back to their time, or do they get lost in another time period? If they do return, will anything have changed? So many questions, so many answers—and I'm not giving away a thing! ^_~

**Additional note:** Incidentally, 'death before dishonour' is the SAS's motto and code of conduct.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Oui, mais je voudrais aller à la salle de bain _= Yes, but I would like to go to the bathroom. (I know this doesn't exactly translate elegantly, but is actually the polite way to excuse yourself—kind of like asking permission).

_À bientôt_ = so long or 'til we meet again


	11. All's Well That Ends Well

**Chapter 11 – All's Well That Ends Well And Other Ridiculous Adages**

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

The harsh, blaring noise trumpeted in his ears like a relentless harpy, and Draco clasped his hands over his ears to shut out the sound.

"What in Salazar's name is that racket?" he yelled above the din, directing a scowl at his travelling companion.

"_What_?"

Ginny took a step forward and was instantly yanked back by the chain wrapped around both their necks. Draco instinctively reached out and nimbly caught her in his arms, feeling her weight press comfortably into his chest. In a panic to regain her balance, Ginny blindly grasped his hand and Draco helped her to her feet. She glanced up at him with sheepish appreciation, but then the beeping noise sounded again and she released his hand.

"I think it's coming from the Time-Turner!" she yelled, mercilessly tapping at the glass cover of the device until it finally ceased its relentless beeping. Silence filled the air, and she shook the Time-Turner, bringing it to her ear. "Professor Dumbledore must have altered it, although I'm not sure why."

Draco glowered at the redhead and reached out to lower the Time-Turner from her ear. "Yes, let's hope the annoying sound effect somehow added to the accuracy of the blasted device and brought us home to _our_ time."

Ginny let out a weary sigh and dropped the Time-Turner between them. The two students stood mutely on the shoreline, taking in the view. The sky above them was lit with swirling colours of reddish-oranges and violets, which were quickly darkening to a deep azure. Dusk had quickly approached and a smattering of stars peeked out past the horizon, adding a dazzling shimmer to the dark blue lake below.

"Well, it looks like we made it," Ginny said with an upwards inflection. "This definitely isn't winter."

Gone were the chilly air and the crisp white snow from 1975. Instead, they were greeted with a warm autumn breeze and the beautiful scenery of green and gold foliage.

"Yes, it was a blinding success," Draco stated sarcastically. "Neither of us was melted into oblivion or had our eyes poked out with sharpened sticks."

Ginny cast a sidelong glance at the blond. "Sharpened sticks?"

Draco waved his hand dismissively and took a step forward, forgetting that the Time-Turner was still around both their necks. Predictably yanked back, he cursed vehemently at his own stupidity. After an agonising second, Ginny finally stood on her toes and reached out to remove the chain from around his neck. The brief contact of her fingers against his bare skin made him flinch and he hastily pulled away as she slipped it off.

Draco cleared his throat and thrust his fists into his trouser pockets, perambulating the beach for a moment before turning to face her. "The question is whether we made it to September 8th, _1998_." His eyes scanned past the shoreline until they spotted a familiar white tombstone.

Ginny took in a sweeping view of the lake as she absently pocketed the Time-Turner. "Everything _looks_ the same." She then turned her attention towards the castle, following Draco's intent gaze until she spotted Dumbledore's gravestone.

Draco let out a short breath through his nostrils and turned away. "Let's go inside."

He began to walk towards the castle, keeping his pace slow in order to allow Ginny to catch up. The redhead quickly fell in line with his footsteps and began to nervously wring her hands, unsure of what to expect.

"_What have you got there, Weaselette? Pilfered some hapless bloke's pocket watch?_"

Ginny's eyes grew as wide as saucer plates at the sound of the familiar voice. She felt Draco grab her by the waist and place his hand over her mouth, dragging her behind a tree. He dropped his arm from her waist and took out his wand, casting a quick Disillusionment Charm over them both. Ginny felt it slip wet and cold down her back.

Draco slowly lowered his hand and put his lips against her ear. "Quiet, Weasley," he whispered, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.

"That's us!" Ginny hissed, and Draco's grip tightened.

"Shh!"

The two had just made it to the cliff's ascent, which was nestled in a sycamore grove only a few hundred metres from the beach near the stone steps that led to the front entrance of the castle. Both watched in horror and amazement as two very familiar figures bickered back and forth on the beach.

"_So whom'd you lift this off?_"

The indelible scene seemed to unfold in front of them like some embarrassing dream put on repeat. Ginny was reminded of watching mo-vees at Hermione's, trying to distinguish between the real and the surreal. Déjà vu really hit home, however, when she saw herself slapping Draco's wrist, earning her past self a withered look from the blond before he reached forward, again, to grab the Time-Turner from her. The two carbon copies continued their heated row, tugging on the chain of the Time-Turner until it snapped in half. Past Draco grabbed the dial, inadvertently turning it.

"_Malfoy, don't—_"

"_What the—?_"

"_Mother-fu—_"

Poof. Gone.

Draco and Ginny opened their mouths in slack-jawed wonderment, having just witnessed their past selves blink out of existence. A moment of silence passed with neither looking at the other in fear that either one would be made to rationalise what had just transpired. Instead, they remained huddled together, staring at the dark, deserted shoreline.

"So, I guess it was my fault too," Draco muttered quietly to himself, as though in disbelief.

Ginny snapped her head around to openly gap at Draco. "Pardon?" She was unsure if she had heard him correctly.

Draco stood up and straightened his collar, offering the redhead a smirk. "I said you're quite amusing when you're flustered, Weasley."

Ginny rolled her eyes, knowing that an admission of guilt from the Slytherin was too good to be true. "Yes, well you're an arse when you're an arse."

Draco's smirk became sharp and he pulled out his wand, non-verbally removing the Disillusionment Charm. A hot trickling sensation stole down their backs, and they both let out a soft sigh of relief. The two then began to trudge the rest of the way up the side of the cliff, resuming their destination to the castle. As they walked side by side in silence, Ginny began to wring her hands once more, and Draco glanced down at the redhead, tentatively putting a hand on top of hers to cease her fidgeting.

"What's wrong, Weasley?" he asked impatiently, quickly removing his hand and raking his fingers through his fine fringe.

Ginny slowly shrugged her shoulders forward, lowering her hands to her sides. "It's nothing. I just ..." She paused and glanced up at him. "I just hope that we didn't bungle everything up."

"_We_?"

"You know what I mean," she said, casually waving her hand in front of her face.

"Rarely, if ever."

As they finally made their way up the top of the cliff, Ginny's shoulders seemed to droop even lower. Draco let out an exasperated sigh and came to an abrupt stop only a few metres from the castle. The redhead halted and spun around, giving the blond a puzzled look.

"Listen, Weasley, I know I'm normally the least sanguine of the two—"

"_Sanguine_?"

"It means hopeful," Draco clarified, irritated. "It means _bloody_ as well." He narrowed his eyes and gave her a look that seemed to ask if she was going to interrupt any further.

She raised her palms in a gesture of surrender, urging him to continue.

"As I was saying: I may not be as _optimistic_ as you, but what we just saw on the beach has to confirm some facts."

"Like what?"

"Like we just saw ourselves using the Time-Turner, so we have to exist here in this present-past, or whatever the proper term for _this_ is." He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the open landscape. "The castle is standing, the sky is blue, we still look and sound as though we hate each other, Dumbledore's tombstone is there ..." He trailed off at the last part, hazarding a sidelong glance at the petite redhead, who was now looking off into the distance in a contemplative manner.

"Hmm, you're right," she agreed, putting a finger to her lip. "So, I wonder what has changed for the better."

Draco rolled his eyes at her quickly rediscovered optimism. "Weasley, I really doubt we interrupted the past that much," he stated somewhat less condescendingly this time. "I mean as long as I exist now it means that my parents got together and had me." He offered her a characteristic grin. "And that's a comforting thought."

Now it was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes. "Comforting, indeed."

Draco inclined his head, and they both continued their trek towards the castle. Opening the doors, Draco stood off to the side, allowing Ginny to step inside first. As the doors closed behind them, they stood and stared at the numerous students milling about the corridors, no doubt heading towards the Great Hall for the Sorting. Both Draco and Ginny scanned the crowd, trying to spot a familiar face.

"Oh, Dean and Seamus!" Ginny cried excitedly after a half-minute of searching, pointing out the Gryffindor duo in the sea of students.

Draco followed her finger and squinted. "I don't know who those two are," he said with disdain, still trying to locate the people whom she was pointing to.

"_Thomas_ and _Finnigan_," she corrected patronisingly, causing Draco to glower. "I gather we have made it to the right time period." She brought her finger back to her lip. "Perhaps that's what that buzzing was all for, to let us know that we arrived at the right date." She glanced up at Draco, who merely shrugged indifferently.

"Whatever," he said dismissively, not bothering to postulate a theory. "It's all rubbish to me."

Ginny let out a sigh and then glanced down at her robes in vague remembrance, biting her bottom lip in keen concentration. She shoved her hands into her pockets and began fishing about for the Time-Turner. Her fingertips touched cool metal and she curled her fingers around the device, bringing it out of her pocket to examine it.

"Don't fiddle with that!" Draco barked, seeing Ginny poking at the Time-Turner.

"Dammit!" she swore, dropping the chain in surprise. "Don't scare me like that! You made me drop it."

"Well, _excuse_ me," Draco cried flippantly. "The reason we got into this mess in the first place is because of your arsing around with the blasted thing."

Ginny narrowed her eyes and literally growled at the blond. "_Don't_ you start in on _that_ again!"

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, far from browbeaten. Instead of coming up with a scathing retort he focused his attention on the marble floors, quickly spotting the white-gold chain twinkling in the last dying rays of sunset that came in through the large stained-glass windows.

"I see it," he announced proudly, and began to walk hunched over to where the chain lay. As Draco went to pick it up, a familiar voice addressed Ginny from behind.

"Ginny!" Ron cried, sprinting across the hall to grab his sister by the shoulders. There was a look of fright mixed with exasperated anger reflecting in his bright blue eyes. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Where in Merlin's name did you run off to?"

"Ron!" Ginny hissed upon reflex, trying to wrest herself free of her brother's tenacious grip. Then, as though slowly coming to the realisation that she hadn't seen Ron in over four months, a huge grin spread across her face.

"Ginny, what's with your—"

Ron was unable to finish his sentence before his little sister launched herself at him, giving him a big, tight hug. She hung from him like a rag doll, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Merlin, I never thought I'd say this," Ginny began breathlessly, "but I've _missed_ you, Ron!" With this, she tightened her hold on him.

"Gin-_ny_," Ron managed to choke out while gasping for air.

Ginny instantly let go and lowered her feet to the floor. She stepped back and gave her brother a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. It's just been so long."

Ron massaged his neck and raised a ginger eyebrow in incredulity. "Is this some kind of joke? I don't know why you're talking the way you are but—but cut it out because it's unnerving me!"

Ginny took another step back and frowned. Okay, so she wasn't normally _this_ affectionate with Ron, but there was no reason for him to be such a ponce about it. At this point, Draco had stood up and began to walk towards the Weasley siblings, the Time-Turner dangling in his hand.

"Ginny, who are you with?" Ron asked, peering over her shoulder, and his eyes suddenly went wide with recognition and anger. "_Malfoy_!"

"Weasley," Draco replied flatly, as he rubbed his fingers along the length of the chain before handing it to Ginny.

Open-mouthed, Ron saw Draco's hand touch Ginny's, and he instinctively pushed his sister out of the way and drew his wand, pointing it at Draco's face. "Clear off, Ferret!"

Draco quickly brought his hand up and lowered Ron's. "Steady on, Weasley." He turned to regard Ginny. "_See_?" He jerked his head in the direction of her befuddled and emotionally charged brother. "I told you nothing has changed."

Ron's grip on his wand slackened, as did his jaw. "W-what?" He lowered his wand, looking back and forth between Draco and Ginny in a state of perpetual shock.

Ginny stepped in between the two boys and turned to face her brother. "Back off, Ron," she warned, pointing a finger at him. "You don't need to be so bloody blinkered all the time."

Ron looked too confused to be crestfallen or maybe he was bewildered by the fact that his sister appeared to have taken Malfoy's side over his. In fact, the tall redhead looked as though he was about to cry from sheer mystification.

"What in the name of Circe's short skirt is going on?" he bellowed, spittle flying everywhere.

Ginny turned to look at Draco, who merely shrugged in apathy. She let out a defeated sigh and made a motion for Draco to follow her. The two casually strolled past Ron, who openly gawked as they went.

As they walked towards the Entrance Hall, Draco bent down. "Told you we made it," he whispered in her ear with a hint of smug satisfaction, and then stood up straight.

"Oh, yes—" Ginny rolled her eyes "—you _told_ me."

Draco grinned, looking happier than he had been in ages. "I never thought I'd be glad to see your idiot of a brother," he said with unadulterated relief in his voice.

"Malfoy—"

"Settle down, Weasley." Draco raised his hand. "I'm not trying to wind you up. I'm just happy we made it back to our time where your brother still hates me."

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "You're happy about that?"

Draco turned his palms upwards. "Of course I am. This is all the proof I needed to know that we're not in some sort of parallel universe where I need to worry about Potter initiating me into a gang."

Ginny let a brief smile linger on her lips before putting on a serious expression. "The Trio aren't like the Marauders: they make you wrestle Hippogriffs as opposed to Acromantulas."

Draco let out a dignified snort and shook his head disapprovingly. "Nancies."

Ginny looked askance at Draco, who was trying his best to maintain a stoic façade. His grey eyes finally met her brown ones, and the two couldn't contain the laughter that was inevitable, and they both broke down into a fit of giggles.

"That was a _horrible_ joke, Weasley," Draco said, quickly recovering, but the cheeky grin remained.

Ginny let out one last giggle and composed herself. "Yes, well, I work with what you give me, which isn't much."

It was just as Ginny was about to deliver her customary punch to Draco's shoulder that she noticed several groups of students observing them with obvious interest.

"Everyone's looking at us," she whispered out of the side of her mouth, as though this was her ingenious plan to prevent others from realising that they two were acting cordial towards each other.

"Well, we _are_ holding a civil conversation in the middle of the halls, Weasley," he replied as a matter-of-fact, altogether ignoring the prying eyes. "And my hair doesn't appear to be lit on fire."

Ginny giggled, despite her earlier instinct to play off their familiarity. "Good point." She then let out a long sigh and nervously scratched the back of her neck. "I guess we should go get ready for the Sorting."

Draco nodded in agreement, and Ginny walked past him. She descended the stairs at the Entrance Hall and took a left, which led to a large portrait. Before she could speak the password, a voice cried out behind her.

"Weasley!"

Ginny turned around, her eyes wide in wonder. "Yes?"

Draco had followed her and was standing at the top of the stairs, pointing a long finger in her direction. "You're heading towards the Slytherin dormitories."

Ginny blushed a scarlet red. "Oh, right." She laughed nervously and skipped back up the stairs. She had got used to taking that entrance for the past four months. "Hey, you don't figure we're in the same houses that we were back in '75, do you?"

"I certainly hope not," Draco replied as he walked towards her. "Besides, you're too much of a bleeding heart to be in Slytherin."

Ginny placed a hand on her hip and mockingly glared up at Draco. "And you don't have enough _heart_ to be in Gryffindor," she said flippantly, and then paused. "Wait, do you even have a heart, Malfoy?"

Draco placed his hand over his heart. "Your words wound me, Weasley."

"Tosser," Ginny said playfully, and then stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, I guess we'll find out. You go to the dungeons, and I'll go to the towers."

"Yes, m'lady," he replied, giving her a formal bow much like the one he gave her on the train, except this time it was far from malicious.

Ginny rolled her eyes but still smiled, bounding up the stairs as Draco descended them. When she made her way to the Gryffindor Towers, she felt an immense weight lift off her shoulders. She suddenly wanted to familiarise herself with the common room, to have a chat with the Fat Lady, to re-initiate herself into her original house. Like how she had reacted with Ron earlier, Ginny had forgot how much she missed Gryffindor and Hogwarts. She missed her old life. But Ginny was also faintly aware that though this timeline may be the same one she once lived in, time for her had changed; perceptions had changed.

After quickly checking out the common room and the girls' dormitories, and seeing nothing new, Ginny went into her room and returned the Time-Turner under Hermione's bed. She would tell Hermione what she had done later that night after dinner. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the lecture she was bound to receive.

The dormitories were completely empty as everyone was sitting in the Great Hall waiting for the Sorting to take place so that they could eat. Ginny exited the tower as fast as she could, jogging briskly towards the doors to the Great Hall where she could see everyone getting settled in. The noise was almost deafening as she approached, and she grinned foolishly when she spotted the great frizzy mane of Hermione Granger. The grin quickly disappeared once she remembered what she would have to tell the brunette after dinner.

Without warning, a pale hand flew out of nowhere and caught her by the wrist, dragging her behind the open doors. Ginny let out a half-yelp, half-laugh as she quickly sussed out whose customary greeting it was to pull her behind the doors to the Great Hall.

"Still a little lion, Weasley?" Draco asked facetiously, dropping Ginny's wrist and offering her a cocky grin.

"Still a slithering snake, Malfoy?" Ginny asked in reply, sticking out her tongue.

"Indeed," Draco answered, before flicking at her tongue with his finger and then quickly wiping his hand on his trousers. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ginny clasped a hand over her mouth and then reached forward, pushing Draco back against the wall with her other hand.

"Prat," she muttered, covering her smile with both hands and then letting them drop to her sides. "I suppose we should go inside and take our seats at our respective tables."

Draco let out a sigh and peered around the door, glancing at the Slytherin table. "We should ..." He paused and turned around to regard Ginny with a somewhat pensive look. "It's odd, but I keep expecting Potter and Black to jump out from around a corner and tackle me."

Ginny clasped her hands together and giggled. "Aww, you miss them!"

Draco's expression soured, recoiling at her insinuation. "Bite your tongue, woman!" he chastised and then awkwardly began to adjust his tie. "I've just become accustomed to being tortured for the last four months."

"Poor you," Ginny said with little sympathy, as she reached forward to help him straighten his tie. "You know, I can help you out with that—the torture, that is."

"You're beastly, Weasley," Draco said, softly slapping her hand away. "I think you've done enough irrevocable damage for one life time."

"_Beastly_?" Ginny laughed. "You snobby git."

"It's part of my charm."

"Draco?"

Both Draco and Ginny turned around to see Blaise Zabini, having just come out of the boys' lavatory. The golden-eyed boy creased his brow in confusion, regarding Draco with curiosity and Ginny with disdain.

"Blaise," Draco cordially greeted, taking a small step back so that he could turn to face his friend.

Draco didn't even bother to give an excuse for why he was standing in a dark corner with Ginny Weasley. He had nothing to hide, but he had nothing to explain either. Blaise, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"I'll see you at the table," he said after a pause. While obviously curious as to what was going on, the dark-haired Slytherin wasn't about to question Draco in front of a Gryffindor.

Draco watched as his housemate walked by, and he briefly turned around to meet Ginny's eyes. "I'll meet you out here after the Sorting."

Ginny nodded and let Draco and Blaise pass through first before she entered. As soon as she crossed the threshold, her brother, Hermione, and Harry, all turned to look at her. Quietly, she lowered her head and took a seat closest to the door, trying her best to avoid eye contact. After an agonising hour of Sorting and announcements, Ginny finally glanced across the table in the direction of Slytherin, catching Draco's eye. He was looking directly at her, pointing to his wrist and holding up his index finger, and then pointing to the doors of the Great Hall.

Ginny nodded in understanding, but instead of waiting a minute to go greet Draco outside the doors she decided to make her way there first. She was understandably uncomfortable with the Trio's gaze, knowing that Ron wanted to corner her and ask her about Malfoy. Right now though, she was more intent on finding out her own answers, _with Draco_.

She quickly left the Great Hall and hid behind the doors. After a minute, the familiar blond walked out, and she reached out to grab his wrist, yanking him back into the corner.

"Salazar's nuts!"

Ginny giggled at his expression and let go of his wrist. "You were due, Malfoy."

Draco let out a soft growl and shook his head in obvious disagreement.

"Merlin, I thought the Sorting would never end!" she said, after she recovered from her fit of giggles.

Draco leant against the wall adjacent to doors. "Yes, there was a lot more waffling this year than usual. And more brats," he added, before bending down to look Ginny square in the eyes. "Any from _your_ brood, Weasley?"

Ginny gave him an ungracious shove before she landed her fist on his biceps. "Shut it!"

Draco violently drew back and immediately began rubbing his tender arm. "I'd love to, but the sound of my own voice distracts me from my irritation."

"Really?" Ginny asked with feigned incredulity. "Because it _compounds_ mine!"

As the two continued to playfully banter back and forth, a figure suddenly stepped out from around the doorway, staring intently at the couple with bespectacled green eyes.

"What now?" Draco asked behind gritted teeth, seeing the infamous Potter walking towards them.

Harry ignored Draco. Instead, he looked down at Ginny, concerned. "Is Malfoy bothering you?"

"No more than usual," Ginny replied with a forced sigh, placing a hand on her hip.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nice one, Weasley."

"Thank you," she replied, offering Draco a smile and shallow bow.

Harry watched this highly unusual and confusing banter take place in front of him with a mixture of incredulity and curiosity.

"Harry, I'm fine, really," Ginny promised in earnest, giving her full attention to Harry. "Malfoy and I are just ... talking." She briefly glanced back up at Draco, shooting him a warning glare in case he decided to be a ponce and contradict her.

Draco begrudgingly relented and let out a huff of annoyance. Harry, however, beyond puzzled, opened his mouth to reply when Ginny reached forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll see you in the common room later, yeah?" She gave him a look that brooked no argument.

"Uhm, yeah," Harry answered slowly, his brow still knitted in deep confusion.

"On your way then, Potter," Draco said impatiently, a smug grin plastered on his face as he made a shooing gesture with his hands.

"Malfoy!" Ginny growled threateningly, effectively silencing the blond.

Draco scoffed at Ginny, crossing his arms over his chest in a petulant manner, but ultimately relented. Harry, on the other hand, didn't let out a sound, and walked back to the Gryffindor table in a daze.

"I told you, didn't I!" Ron said, seeing the look of befuddlement in his best mate's eyes.

"Y-yeah, you did," he answered absently, taking his seat between Ron and Hermione. "You were right, Ron. That was ... that was _odd_." He turned to look at Hermione for answers. "Hermione?"

"I-I—I dunno," Hermione stuttered, unable to explain it. "Ron was _right_?"

Ron was too worked up to notice Hermione's slight on his judgement. "Maybe it's a spell," he offered as a means of explanation.

Ron and Harry both looked to Hermione for confirmation.

"That is a plausible explanation," she answered, still looking shell-shocked, "but I have never heard of such a spell."

"It has to be!" Ron cried, determined to believe his own theory.

"Whatever it may be," Hermione began, slowly shaking herself from her stupor, "we ought to inform Professor McGonagall."

**-x-**

Draco and Ginny had become strangely mute, unsure of what to say to one another after their confrontation with Harry. Everyone appeared to be quite confused at the erstwhile enemies' seemingly cordial attitude towards one another. This, of course, had to confirm that they were in the past-present (or whatever it should be termed). Everything seemed the same: house prejudices still existed, Professor McGonagall was the new Headmistress, and Dumbledore's tombstone still stood near the shores of the lake.

"So, I guess nothing has changed," Ginny stated in an unusually quiet voice, finally breaching the silence.

"Thank Salazar," Draco commented with haughty relief, bringing his nails eye-level to inspect.

"I suppose so ..."

Draco dropped his hand and glanced down at Ginny, his grey eyes softening. "You had hoped that your brother would still be alive."

"Yeah," she answered in a wavering voice, slowly nodding.

Draco grimaced and awkwardly lowered his hand onto her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry, Weasley."

Ginny turned her face up at Draco, regarding him with wide, searching eyes. Her penetrating gaze and his own uncharacteristic gesture of kindness made the Slytherin falter. He dropped his hand and stood rigidly, trying to appear unflappable.

"I wouldn't mind _not_ being known as the idiot who tried to kill Dumbledore," he added dryly, attempting levity.

Ginny's eyes narrowed, unmoved by his morbid humour. "I guess we all have our crosses to bear," she muttered darkly.

Draco smiled at her reaction, feeling that they had both regained a sense of normalcy. "At least we're both still pretty," he said with a bit of cheek before she looked up at him again, and he was forced to back-peddle. "Not that you're ..." He paused, fumbling under her scrutinising stare.

A knowing smirk formed on Ginny's lips, and Draco rolled his eyes at her baiting, letting out a resigned sigh.

"Alright, Weasley, you're cute," he admitted with obvious defeat. "Don't let it go to your head."

"I'll try not to," she retorted blandly, the grin still lingering on her lips. "I guess this is my cue to go back inside before you start insulting me again."

As she turned to walk past him, he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm, gently pulling her back.

"Weasley, wait." He dropped his hand when he saw her staring at it. "You're ..." He paused, a struggle apparent on his sharp, angular features. "You're a good sort, _Ginevra_."

Ginny turned around, raising an eyebrow at the half-bashful expression that the blond was trying so desperately to mask. "Thanks, _Draco_." She put a small hand on his arm. "You're not so bad yourself—once you get past the shallow exterior and the layers upon layers of arrogance."

"I happen to like my layers," he retorted lordly, and then ran a slender hand down his chest for emphasis.

"Of course you would," Ginny replied with a snort, gently moving her hand onto his chest, causing the blond to tense. "One thing though: could we just stick to last names for now?"

"Salazar yes!" he cried, a rare smile gracing his lips.

He instinctively brought his hand up to touch hers. The electrifying contact startled them both, and they dropped their hands in haste, glancing furtively about the empty hallway to see if anyone had spotted them.

"I mean," Draco began, clearing his throat, "I'd call you by your first name for propriety's sake, but I'd just rather not. It makes me feel _unclean_." He feigned a look of disgust and pantomimed wiping dirt off his hands. "Old prejudices die hard."

Ginny cocked her fist back, delivering Draco a swift punch to his lower biceps.

"Oww!" Draco clutched his arm. "What did you do that for?"

"I'm helping you put those old prejudices to bed," Ginny answered with a wry grin, looking rather satisfied with herself. "Pain makes an excellent learning tool."

Draco growled and lowered his arm. "Have I not endured enough pain, torture, and humiliation these past four months, Weasley?"

"No."

"Ahem." The sound of someone clearing her voice interrupted from behind, and the two students spun around to see Headmistress McGonagall standing just outside the doors with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall began with her usual authoritative tone, "would you accompany me to my office?" Her sharp nostrils flared out as she waited, regarding Draco with unmasked impatience.

Draco grimaced and reluctantly inclined his head, stepping past Ginny to follow the older witch. McGonagall let her gaze linger on Ginny for a moment in a contemplative manner, no doubt wondering why Ginny was alone with Draco.

"Is everything alright, Miss Weasley?" she prompted, briefly glancing in Draco's direction.

Draco scowled at the Headmistress's obvious mistrust. He remembered a time, not so long ago (back in 1975), when the Transfiguration professor liked him and actually cared about his well-being. Obviously that time had passed, and Draco was no longer afforded such trust or simple pleasantries.

"Oh, I'm fine, Headmistress," Ginny answered quickly. "Malfoy and I were just talking."

Professor McGonagall raised a thin brow in curiosity, swiftly uncrossing her arms. Ginny swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the Headmistress's gaze, and she brought a hand to the back of her neck, rubbing nervously.

"Well, I had better get back to the table before Ron eats everything in sight," Ginny added with a half-laugh, offering McGonagall a thin smile before stepping out in front of the doors. "Good evening, Headmistress." She then briefly glanced over her shoulder at Draco and offered him a smirk. "Good luck, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Weasley."

At this, Professor McGonagall let out a low chortle. Ginny slowly spun around, knitting her brow in confusion, and Draco regarded the old witch as though she had just sprouted a second head.

"I was wondering when you two would _arrive_," McGonagall said, emphasising the verb before she swept past Ginny, quietly closing the Great Hall doors.

"Wha—" Ginny stepped past the Headmistress and sneaked a peek at Draco's countenance. "You remember us?"

McGonagall turned around to face the two students. "Of course," she answered in a blasé tone. "How could I forget the two _exchange_ students from 1975?"

Draco and Ginny immediately looked at one another. Ginny opened her mouth in awe, taking a step back from the taller witch.

"How did you know that we made it back?"

McGonagall let out a short sigh and clasped her hands together. "Miss Weasley, you are conversing in _French_."

"Oh," Ginny rejoined absently, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth until a light suddenly went off in her head. "_Oh_!"

Draco smacked his forehead with his palm, while a wry grin hung off the Headmistress's wrinkled face.

"Apparently _neither_ of you removed your Language Charm before you returned here to this time," McGonagall explained with contained amusement.

This explained why Ron and Harry had thought Draco and Ginny had gone bonkers—besides the fact that the two were acting civil towards each other.

"You know when I saw you two arrive at Hogwarts as young children, I had always wondered how you were both able to speak those languages so fluently," McGonagall mused aloud, bringing a thin hand to her pointed chin.

"Pardon me?"

McGonagall directed her attention at Draco, who was glowering at her. "I figured out whom _Drago_ was straight off," she said dryly, and then glanced at Ginny. "But it took me a few years to figure out who _Geneviève_ was. It was a touch difficult to associate that long red mane of yours with the wavy blonde hair of Miss Belette."

"The Glamour Charm!" Ginny exclaimed suddenly, her green eyes twinkling in shock as she touched her strawberry-blonde hair.

The Headmistress smiled. "I'll remove that, Miss Weasley, along with the accent spell." She withdrew her wand from her robes. "Fortunately, Professor Dumbledore left a note for me to be opened on this day, detailing how to lift the spell."

After some complicated wandstrokes and a spell that sounded almost lyrical, Professor McGonagall removed the Language Charm and then went to work on changing Ginny's eye colour from green to brown and returning her hair to its former darker shade of red.

"There we go." The older stepped back to take a better look at Ginny and Draco. "The exchange students are now Hogwarts students once more."

Draco and Ginny regarded each other with a frown. Ginny brought her hand to her hair, twirling an amber lock between her fingers and then raising it eye level to inspect the accuracy of its colour. Once satisfied, she lowered her hand and looked up sheepishly at Professor McGonagall.

"Are we in trouble?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know, are you?" McGonagall asked, giving Ginny a queer look.

The redhead's shoulders sagged forward and then a sudden horror overtook her. "Are we going to Azkaban?"

Draco slowly turned with his brow creased and his mouth hung slightly ajar. He was giving Ginny a spectacular _what-the-deuce_ look.

"Merlin no!" McGonagall exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips. "Whatever would make you think that?"

"Professor Dumbledore told us that the Ministry would arrest us for improper use of a Time-Turner."

Clarity finally registered in the old witch's eyes, and she placed a frail hand on the Ginny's shoulder. "Back then you would have undoubtedly be put on trial, but now ..." She paused, pursing her wrinkled lips into a sardonic grin. "Well, the Ministry has more important matters to deal with, so let's make this a school punishment as opposed to a government one."

i

"Thank you, Headmistress," Ginny mumbled, head bent, avoiding the no-doubt murderous glare that Draco was directing at her head.

Professor McGonagall noted the menacing gleam in Draco's eyes and sniffed loudly, dropping her hand from Ginny's shoulder. "Did you return the device to Miss Granger?"

Ginny nodded solemnly in answer.

"I will have to get it from her tomorrow morning, then," McGonagall said to no one in particular.

At this point, Ginny began to wring her hands, and the Headmistress noted the nervous habit with raised eyebrows.

"Do you have something else to add, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny shook her head at first and then frowned, opening her mouth. "Well, Professor Dumbledore altered the Time-Turner."

"Altered it how?"

"I'm not sure, but it makes this weird beeping noise now," she explained, furrowing her brow in frustration.

McGonagall let out a short laugh and smiled. "Miss Weasley, it was probably some inside joke of his, or not." She glanced at Draco. "You never knew what to expect from Professor Dumbledore."

Draco let out an annoyed sigh. "May I go now?"

McGonagall shook her head. "No. I came here looking for you, Mister Malfoy." She clasped her hands together in a serious manner. "Your father is here to see you."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow in shock. "My father?"

"Yes, now follow me to my office," Professor McGonagall ordered impatiently and turned to look at Ginny. "You can come as well, Miss Weasley."

"_Me_? Why?"

"To outline your punishment, of course," McGonagall answered, wrapping her robes tightly about herself. "And to ask you more about the handling of the Time-Tuner."

"Oh." Ginny swallowed nervously.

Professor McGonagall curled her finger back, indicating that the two to follow her, and turned around to head towards her office with both students in tow.

"What's wrong, Weasley?" Draco asked with feigned concern as he stepped in line with Ginny. "Afraid to have a chat with _Lucius_?"

Ginny hesitated for a moment and then lifted her chin high, determined not to dignify his question with an answer—an answer that was obvious (yes, she was bloody well afraid). But Draco wouldn't take silence for an answer. As they made their way towards the Headmistress's office, he continued to egg Ginny on, trying to provoke a response

"C'mon, where's that Gryffindor courage, Weasley?"

"Pfft," Ginny scoffed as they began the short ascent up the stairs. "You do realise that the Sorting process is utter bollocks."

"Miss Weasley!" Professor McGonagall cried, spinning around on the top of the landing. She glanced down disapprovingly at her intrepid Gryffindor.

"Sorry, Headmistress," Ginny apologised as she reached the door and was ushered inside. "But, honestly, they're just stock traits. Not every house member must fit into an iron mould—there is always room for deviation."

"And there is always room for _deviants_," a strong, silky voice added from the other side of the room.

Ginny let out a loud gasp and took a staggering step back, bumping into Draco. She grabbed his hand in shock. Not letting go, Draco looked at his father standing in the corner of the office with two nondescript wizards on either side.

"Father," Draco greeted strongly, with only a hint of unease in his voice.

"Hello, Draco," Lucius said calmly and then directed his attention to McGonagall, who had closed the door behind her. "_Headmistress_ McGonagall."

Lucius then briefly glanced down at his son holding hands with a petite red-haired girl and neither shock nor confusion registered on his impassive face. Instead, he let his grey eyes travel upwards and linger for a moment on Ginny's face before he greeted her too.

"Miss Weasley."

Ginny swallowed hard but did not look away. Instead, she straightened her back and held her head high while Draco squeezed her hand reassuringly. Lucius noted this with faint interest before he brought his cane up and took a step towards his son.

"Father, is everything well?" Draco asked hesitantly, unsure of why his father was in Professor McGonagall's office with armed guards.

In the original timeline Wizengamots had not yet determined Lucius's fate. He was, in fact, being interned at the Ministry where he awaited his punishment. Draco's fate and his mother's, however, had already been decided: Narcissa with no charges placed on her and Draco with all charges dropped—thanks to Potter.

"As well as it can be," he answered dryly, glancing back at the two wizards who appeared to be his guards. "The Ministry has put me under house arrest rather than incarcerate me at Azkaban." He sniffed haughtily. "It appears there was a lack of evidence when it came to arresting me with something incriminating, besides my earlier _crime_."

Lucius had served a term in Azkaban before he was set free by Voldemort. The time he had left to serve would be tacked onto his house arrest.

"What about Mother?" Draco asked, hoping that she was still regarded as innocent.

"She has not been charged with anything, just like you," Lucius answered tersely, fingering his onyx and ivory cane.

"How long will you be under house arrest?"

"Ten years," he replied stiffly. "_Minimum_."

Draco furrowed his brow, wondering where this left him. Did he have to go into house arrest with them like his mother volunteered? Could he visit them? Was he permitted?

"So ... where shall I be living?" he asked hesitantly, glancing up at his father.

"Your mother and I will be staying at the villa in Tuscany rather than Malfoy Manor," Lucius explained, much to Draco's relief. "The estate and all properties are now yours, Draco."

Draco made to open his mouth, but Professor McGonagall interjected first.

"It's the best way to not have the Ministry seize all your assets," she stated bitingly, glaring at the older Malfoy.

"Indeed," Lucius responded, casting a sneer the Headmistress's way before he turned to regard his son with a somewhat softer expression. "You are now legal heir to the fortune and have all-access to the coiffures." He briefly glanced back at McGonagall before he straightened his back. "Remember to donate _generously_ to the Ministry and Hogwarts."

Draco shook his head in disbelief as to what was transpiring. "Forgive my impertinence, Father, but why is it just you here to see me and not Mother?"

Lucius frowned. "Your mother is busy packing," he answered, as though his son had just asked the stupidest question in the world. "I was _permitted_ to come here to personally deliver you my wand." He then unsheathed his wand, handing it and the cane over to his son. "Your mother and I are forbidden to use magic, nor are we allowed house-elves."

Draco let go of Ginny's hand and took his father's wand. "Am I allowed to visit?"

"I do believe scheduled visits are permitted," Lucius answered, briefly looking back at his two guards. "Your mother is already looking into it." He took a step forward and placed a large hand on his son's shoulder. "Draco, I'm afraid my time here is limited."

"Oh, uh, yes," Draco fumbled for words, unsure of whether to step aside and let his father pass or attempt to awkwardly embrace him. He briefly looked to Ginny for advice.

Lucius watched this exchange and let out a snort. "Draco, you don't need Miss Weasley's permission to give a proper goodbye to your father."

Draco met his father's eyes and opened his mouth in protest. "Father, it's not what you—"

"_Unglaub_," Lucius interrupted in perfect German, "_do you really think your father is that stupid_?" A slight smirk formed on his lips before he took a step forward and stiffly embraced his son.

Dumbfounded, Draco lifted his arm and returned his father's singular act of affection with an awkward pat. Ginny, in turn, took a step back, and Professor McGonagall reached forward, placing a warm hand on the redhead's shoulder.

Lucius released his son and stood back, doing up the clasp to his cloak. He then directed his attention at Ginny, who met his cold grey eyes with unwavering determination. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a sneer before he wiped any telling expression off his face.

"_Belette_? _Honestly_?" he asked Ginny in French, with slight indignation ringing in his voice. He let out a sharp sigh and walked past her, clicking his shoes on the marble floor. "Well, at least the dodgy old wizard had a sense of humour."

Lucius's two guards stepped in front and opened the door, waiting to escort him off the grounds. With a straight back, Lucius regally made his way towards the exit, stopping short at the door and turning to regard his son.

"Draco," Lucius began, in English this time, "you may believe that I do not understand what it means to be indebted to another, but I do." He briefly glanced over at Ginny and frowned somewhat disapprovingly before stiffly adding, "I may not approve, but I _understand_."

**-x-**

After the uncomfortable encounter with Lucius and recounting all that they could about the Time-Turner to Professor McGonagall, the two time-travelling students finally stumbled out of the Headmistress's office to head to their respective beds. Several hours had passed and it was well-past curfew. Draco, deciding to be a gentleman, escorted Ginny to the towers, and the two tried their best to avoid talking about what Lucius had said (or revealed) the entire way.

As they approached the corridor to the tower stairs, Ginny suddenly came to a halt and let out a sharp curse, searching the ground in a panic while she clutched her hand to her chest.

"Merlin's pants!" she growled, fumbling at her blouse. "I lost two of my buttons."

Draco sneaked a furtive glance at the redhead's cleavage before he slid his hands into his pockets and tried to appear casual. "Be glad that's all you lost today."

Ginny looked up at Draco and grinned. "I guess you're right." She let out a sigh and leant against the wall, rubbing her palm along her bare collar. "So, are we just going to pretend that your father _didn't_ figure out who we were back in 1975?"

Draco lightly tossed Lucius's cane in the air and caught it. "That's the general plan."

"And his little 'I may not approve' speech?" she added with a grin, pushing herself off the wall. "Whatever _that_ meant."

"Yes—" Draco twirled the cane and slowly sauntered towards her "—we're pretending he never said _that_ either."

Ginny took a step forward and the two met several inches apart. She could feel the heat emanate off his body and she took a fumbling step backwards, backing herself against the wall.

"So what exactly are we remembering from that discussion?"

Draco leant forward, placing his free hand flat against the wall beside her head. "That I am now filthy rich," he said in a low, throaty voice, as his eyes drew downwards to the shadowed décolletage of her unbuttoned blouse. "Care to get dirty with me, Weasley?"

Ginny blushed under his intense gaze. "Uh, I'm going to pretend that you meant that last part in the nicest, least sexual way possible."

"Sexual?" Draco feigned umbrage as he pushed himself off the wall. "You have a perverted mind, Miss Weasley."

"Whatever." Ginny recovered, rolling her eyes. "At least I never made out with my _mum_!"

Draco suddenly hovered over her once more, pushing her against the wall. "I will pay you vast amounts of gold to _never_ mention that again!"

Ginny tilted her chin up so that her lips barely brushed against his. "What, no _threats_ from Draco Malfoy?"

Draco smirked. "I think you've figured out that my threats against you are idle."

His eyes lingered on her lips, and she unconsciously flicked her tongue out to wet them. "So ... is this where we go back to hating each other?"

"I suppose so," he ruminated aloud, bringing the tip of the cane to her lips, "but I have to tell you, Weasley, that I really don't have it in me to hate you anymore."

She coloured at the sincerity in his voice and tried her best not to squirm under his gaze. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

"I haven't a clue, Weasley," he said slowly, bringing his lips close to hers, his eyes half-lidded with desire, "but it's not like we need to decide right here and now."

Ginny lowered her head and stared bashfully at the stone floor, unable to look him in the eye. Draco, in turn, reached out and put two fingers under her chin, lifting it so that her warm brown eyes met his grey. He offered her one of his rare smiles and he cupped her cheek, closing his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.

"Malfoy, I—" she tentatively put her hands to his chest and gently pushed him away "—I'm with _Harry_."

Draco would not be easily dissuaded; he pushed her back against the wall with intensity. "You were with Potter when you kissed my father and _me_," he said bitingly.

"It's different now," she whispered feebly, looking away, knowing that the fight was quickly leaving her.

"Really?" Draco stood up and gripped his father's cane tightly in his hand.

Ginny turned to look up into his eyes, seeing the raging emotions subtly shift in his mercurial depths.

"Well then, Weasley," he began slowly, letting out a protracted sigh as he stared at the cane in his hand, "I guess you're just going to have to dump Potter because I don't exactly share well—or at all, in fact."

His grey eyes flitted upwards, locking with hers. The look he gave her was one of determination. He had made up his mind. Could she make up hers?

"I can't. I ..." She paused, searching his eyes as she searched her soul.

Ginny knew that things were different now between her and Draco. She still cared for Harry, and he would always be her hero and her first crush, but she knew her original feelings for him had changed. Four months ago she had been dating Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin's sake! So much for her being some loyal Gryffindor. Besides, it wasn't even Lucius whom she truly liked, whom she was honestly attracted to. It was Draco: Draco who saved her life; Draco who made her laugh; Draco who made her blush; Draco who made her feel alive. It was always Draco.

"I think I'm going to tell Harry that I need some space while I figure things out," she said slowly, not quite believing the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Draco smirked. "So, are you going to quantify the amount of space you need?"

Ginny drew her head back and gave him a nonplussed look. "What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, I mean is this space the exact height, depth, and breadth as Potter?"

Ginny let out a short laugh and shook her head, offering him a shy smile. Only Draco would make a pompous joke about Harry at a time like this. Draco smiled back, that beautiful smile of his, and the two stood in the hallway, silently observing the other before he finally turned and headed towards his own dormitories.

"Whatever you do, Weasley—" he turned around so that he was walking backwards and talking to her at the same time "—I expect to see Potter at breakfast tomorrow with puffy, red eyes!" He smirked and then gave her a cheeky wink. "I didn't save your life so that you could be with _him_."

Suddenly Ginny was sprinting across the hall and leaping into Draco's arms. The Slytherin awkwardly caught the redhead, stumbling backwards, and let out a muffled yelp of surprise as Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. The kiss was hot and wet, devouring. There was no art to it, but there was passion and longing, and when it finally ended, the two drew away in breathless wonder, their minds empty of all thought.

As Ginny slid down Draco's taut body, he held her close, panting happily. "I've been waiting for you to do that again since 1975," he said breathlessly, bringing a free hand to her cheek.

"Long wait, that," she said, equally breathless, and then stood on her toes to reach his lips.

Draco responded by bending down, capturing her rosebud lips with his. The kiss was more thorough this time, letting the sensation linger. When he finally released her, she slowly drew back but he pulled her in closer, possessively.

"Hey, now don't regret this, Weasley," Draco said warning. "I know you Gryffindors are _supposed_ to be loyal—stock trait and all."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't regret this, Malfoy," she admitted, and then grinned evilly. "Besides, I've done much worse in the past, especially with your father."

"Ugh, Weasley, _please_," Draco protested, looking as though he was about to vomit. "I do not want to know this."

Ginny laughed and put a hand to his chest. "I _am_ loyal, Malfoy," she stated seriously, tilting her head and giving him a warm smile, "but the heart wants what the heart wants."

"As does the libido," he retorted just as seriously, and then feinted to the left, avoiding the redhead's right cross.

"Prat!" she cursed, but her smile remained. "So ... I'll see you tomorrow?"

Draco smiled and nodded, bending down to deliver another soft kiss to her wanting lips. "Tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that for a _very_ long time."

Ginny couldn't help but blush at the clichéd line and stood up on her toes to steal another kiss. "Until you get bored of me?" she asked teasingly.

"Weasley—_Ginny_, I don't think I could ever get bored of you."

Draco gave her another kiss and let go of her hand, turning around to head towards his own dormitory before the two were caught. Ginny watched him go, giving him a goofy grin when he looked back over his shoulder. Once he disappeared around the corner, she let out a content sigh and began her way to the Gryffindor Tower.

Maybe this was the big change: the relationship between her and Draco. All it took was them spending time together in the past—and saving each other's lives. The mo-vees weren't real. Draco was still Draco: he was the boy who had tried to kill Dumbledore and who had let Death Eaters into the school. However, he was now the boy who had clumsily and painfully defended her honour against his own father and saved her life. Maybe that was part of the change.

The change itself was something internal, not external, and it was an experience that could only be shared by the two of them. In the face of all opposition, Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy had forged an unlikely friendship and maybe something more. Life didn't always have to go according to plan. They could make it up as they went along. And, for some reason, this notion comforted Ginny, as did the feeling of satin smooth lips pressed against hers.

So with an impish grin on her face, Ginny skipped all the way to the dormitories, content that nothing in her world had changed—nothing on the surface at least. She slid her palm along the wall, feeling the texture of the stone, not even noticing the numerous picture frames of the former Ministers for Magic that lined it. One frame stuck out though, as it was the picture of the current Minister for Magic:

_Argus Filch_.

**The End**

**-x-**

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**Author's notes: **I bet you didn't see that one coming. It was a cute ending, and you know it!

*The beeping noise and Dumbledore's purpose in adding it to the Time-Turner is for you to decide. I wanted to use the beeping device as something that draws together the beginning of the first chapter with the last and the beginning of the movie _Back to the Future_ as well. So, who knows, maybe Dumbledore watched _Back to the Future_. ^_~

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who came along for the ride, and for those who endured a fic named after a pregnancy prevention pill. Yup, I did not think that one through ..._

_~Lia_


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